Document 12788034576b
by Brainiac5
Summary: Otherwise known as the -not journal!- writings regarding the disadvantages of being a human hero. When I wished to be human, I did not realize how difficult my life would become... struggling with my own humanity alongside a legion of super-humans.
1. Entry 1

Doc code 1278803-4576b

_-Keypad initiated-_

**Entry 1--**

"Wow! So this is what New Metropolis looks like! There are so many different species around here!" Thaal exclaimed in a very loud voice. "Look! Is that a Daxamite? Oh, wait, what species is _that_? A Romulan?"

"Thaal," I hissed, "If you want to go into interplanetary relations, you need to stop being so obnoxious. There are thousands of different species living in New Metropolis, and you can't run around pointing at them all."

Thaal scowled. "Har-dee-har. Speaking of thousands of species, what are you supposed to be, exactly?"

I shrugged. "I am not entirely sure."

"Well, let me think," Thaal said, looking me up and down, stopping the two of us in the middle of the spaceport. Dozens of beings pushed around him, giving him irritated looks as he carefully scrutinized me.

"I have to say, Brainy, I never thought I'd see the day when your hair was blue," he finally said. "The forehead ridges were a nice touch, though I'm not sure why you don't have eyebrows."

"Perhaps you should ask Arno what I am," I said, gesturing at the artist, who was struggling through the throng of people, lugging two large bags.

"Arno!" Thaal shouted.

Arno grimaced. "You could help with these, you know," He said, dropping the bags with a heavy thud.

I winced. "Arno, there is delicate equipment in those bags. Please refrain from--"

"Brainy, I think you need to work out some, if you can't carry your own bags," Thaal accused.

"But you didn't carry your own bags either," Arno said, glancing at Thaal with a mildly irritated look.

"But that's just because I was smart enough to save my strength," Thaal said defensively.

"You know, it looks like we're going to be living here for the rest of our lives, not a few weeks," Arno mused. "And the funny thing is, I think Brainy packed the lightest."

"I really wish you wouldn't call me Brainy," I said.

"What are we supposed to call you? Querl?"

I shushed Thaal frantically. "Not _that_ name either. Especially not that name!"

"Well, then _what_?" Thaal grumbled.

"How about Jonis?" Arno suggested.

"I like the name Islyrri," Thaal said.

"I think Vril would suffice," I said. "Call me Vril."

"Now what kind of weird name is _that_?" Thaal demanded.

"It isn't any weirder than _Arno_," Arno grumbled. "I kind of like it. It has a nice ring to it."

I nodded.

Arno scowled. "Your nose. Did you rub your nose?"

"Someone bumped into me when I was disembarking the transport," I said.

"There's a spot of green on your nose," Arno said.

"Call it a bruise," Thaal suggested. "Who knows, maybe people with whitish-yellow skin and longish blue hair and green eyes and no eyebrows get green bruises on their noses."

I sighed. "Would you _please_ stop making comments about my appearance? People will get suspicious."

"I think it's hard to be suspicious when the only reason they notice you is because you're standing in the middle of a walkway." Thaal said, as though it were not his idea to stand in the middle of the promenade.

"Why don't we go check into the hotel?" Arno suggested.

"All right," I said, leaning down and straining to lift one of my bags.

"You're going to throw out your back doing it like that, _Vril_," Thaal said. "Come on, I thought you were a genius. Lift with your knees; or didn't you know to do that?"

I grunted, hefting the bag. When I'd placed it on the transport, it had weighed in at sixty-five pounds, which was half my body weight. Arno hefted his own bags, my other bag and Thaal's bag. Thaal lifted his second bag, straining to place it on his shoulder. "Well?" he said, glancing between the two of us.

I nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

A/N: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Brainiac Five fights the sun...eater. Wait a minute...

I have absolutely no idea where that comment came from, honest. On to other matters. What on earth are Thaal and Arno planning? Why is Brainy's hair blue, and (most importantly of all) will Brainy's eyebrows grow back in evenly? To learn the answer to this question and many more, stay tuned!

* * *

A/N: #2 (Quick note)

As I was lying in my bed considering what many tortures I can inflict upon Brainy due to his timely return, I realized that this is a sequel. As such, I should probably mention somewhere in the first chapter that it is, in fact, a sequel, so that when Document 1278803-4576a is covered in dust and moth-eaten (not sun-eaten), people who read this do not think that they're missing some great part of legion history because they don't know who Thaal or Arno may be.

As such, I have a very wordy disclaimer:

THIS IS A SEQUEL! IF YOU ARE CONFUSED, MOST LIKELY YOU HAVE NOT READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS FIC, WHICH IS CALLED "Document 1278803-4576a", (as opposed to "document 1278803-4576b", because I'm so very creative in that way...). I'm really not sure why that's all in capitals. However, if you feel as though you simply must know who these characters are and how they managed to convince Brainy to dye his hair _blue_ of all things, then you might want to read Document 1278803-4576a.

If not, you've only lost thirty-some chapters' worth of character development and general angst on Brainy's part. Enjoy the rest of this fic, and if you ever find the time, you might enjoy reading the prequel to this sequel...


	2. Entry 2

Document 1278803-4576b

_-Keypad initiated-_

**Entry 2--**

"So, how does this thing work?" Thaal asked me, fiddling with a small gauntlet.

"Don't put it on," I told him distractedly, still unpacking my bag. I tugged a few wiring tools and components out-- one of them had snagged the inside of the bag.

"Why not?" Thaal asked.

"Do you want the room with the closet or the chest of drawers?" Arno asked me. "And did you pack _any_ clothes at all?"

"Yes, mother," I replied, "I packed clothes. And underwear, and socks."

"What about deodorant?" Thaal asked me, trying to fit the gauntlet on his wrist.

"Didn't Brain-- Vril-- say not to put that on?" Arno asked.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"I packed all the necessities," I told Thaal. "And I would recommend you refrain from tampering with that invention. I cannot guarantee your safety."

He eyed the gauntlet with interest. It was made of flexible material, reinforced with strong ribbing. Small nodes stuck out along the edges. "It doesn't look dangerous."

I sighed. "Shouldn't you unpack?"

"Arno's doing that," Thaal said dismissively, trying to fit the gauntlet past his hand.

"Yes, because _someone_ has to be responsible," Arno grumbled, hefting Thaal's bag onto a bed in the next room. "What did you put in here, Thaal? Rocks?"

"No," Thaal said, tugging uselessly on the gauntlet. I pulled a few more bits and pieces of equipment from my bag.

"Did you even _bother_ folding your clothes?" Arno demanded, lumping clothes out of Thaal's bag with an irritated look.

"They weren't clean," Thaal said, trying to put the gauntlet on the other wrist, "so what was the point in folding them?"

"YOU PACKED DIRTY CLOTHES?!" Arno demanded, dropping the clothes as though they'd burned him.

"Yeah, so?" Thaal asked, momentarily forgetting the gauntlet.

"What are you going to wear?" Arno demanded.

"Um, what I packed, duh," Thaal said, sliding half of the gauntlet over his left hand.

"Before or _after_ you wash them?" Arno demanded.

"Whichever," Thaal said dismissively.

"Not _whichever_," Arno replied. "I'm calling room service right now! They have _got_ to have something to wash clothes…"

"Try through those doors," I pointed, where I'd caught sight of a washing appliance of some sort.

Arno gathered up all of Thaal's clothes and staggered towards the doorway, muttering under his breath, his voice muffled by the giant pile.

"I can't hear you," Thaal sniggered at Arno. A moment later, I heard a quiet "_zzzzzt"_ sound. "Yeow!!" Thaal screeched, throwing the gauntlet to the floor. His hand was twitching convulsively. "What did you _do_ to that thing?!"

"It is supposed to stimulate and augment myofibrils via small electronic pulses, amplifying signals from the nervous system and…"

Thaal's face was blank. "I think I lost you at 'stimulate and augment'," he informed me.

I sighed, pulling the last of the components from my bag.

"Thaal!" Arno yelled from the wash room, "When was the last time you cleaned these things?"

Thaal thought hard for a moment. "Not sure!" he shouted back.

Arno grumbled some more, and soon the machine started up. He returned to the room. "Please tell me you packed clean clothes," he said to me.

I blinked. "Obviously."

"I'm hungry," Thaal said, massaging his hand. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"I'll go find something," Arno said. "Here, Brainy-- Vril-- um, yeah, here."

He shoved a small canister of something in my hands. "Put this on your nose to cover up the green spot. I'll be back."

"When does Brainy-- Vril-- get his eyebrows back?" Thaal asked Arno.

"Sometime after I come back with food," Arno replied. "Thaal, don't break anything while I'm gone."

"Don't worry," I told Arno, "I'll look after him."

Thaal glared at me. "Hey. I'm doing you a huge favor by coming. The least you could do is show some gratitude."

"You're here during a school break," I replied.

"Exactly! I'm spending my vacation with you, instead of my girlfriend!"

I glanced at Thaal. "What girlfriend?"

"Well, if I wasn't covering for you, maybe I would _have_ a girlfriend," Thaal retorted.

"Good luck finding a girl who could stand you, Mister dirty clothes," I replied blandly, unpacking my clothes.

"Oh, whatever," Thaal grumbled. "Hey Arno? Can I come with you? I'm starving!"

Arno sighed, glancing in my direction and rolling his eyes. "Sure," he agreed after a moment.

"Great. That'll give Brain —Vril— time to update his Journal," Thaal said, smirking at me.

I scowled. "It's not—never mind."

"Bye BVril," Thaal said. "Maybe we'll bring back something for you."

Arno gave Thaal a look of consternation. "The whole point of going out was to bring back—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Thaal said dismissively, waving a hand and throwing open the door. "See you, Bvril."

Arno followed Thaal out, and I was left with my thoughts…

* * *

A/N: Well. That chapter really wasn't as hard to finish as I thought it was. Now I just have to write another, somewhere in between Macroeconomics homework and Japanese speaking tests...

Sorry for the long wait, and if you're still alive by the time I next update, stay tuned!


	3. Entry 3

Document 1278803-4576b

_-Keypad initiated-_

**Entry 3-**

I was left alone in the hotel with my inventions, which I began to unpack and reassemble as soon as Thaal and Arno departed. Before long, I had covered nearly two-thirds of the counter space and a window seat with my various inventions, and I'd only unpacked half of them. I debated filling the rest of the counter and maybe the couch, but suspected that Thaal would be distressed if I "took over" the only comfortable piece of furniture in the suite.

I momentarily considered putting some on the table, but I knew that Arno would object to that arrangement. Finally, I decided to fill one of the two bathrooms with equipment, and layer half of my bedroom floor with the remainder of the inventions.

When Thaal and Arno returned, I was sitting on my bed, tinkering with the gauntlet that Thaal had recklessly dashed to the floor. It was supposed to increase muscle strength while stabilizing the bone structure to sustain enormous pressure using electronic signals of an extremely high frequency to stimulate a response from the nervous system. Ideally, the device could be converted into a full-body suit… but at the moment, I had yet to discover a frequency that communicated effectively with the nervous system without causing pain.

"Hey Brainy, why can't you keep your stuff in your room?" Thaal complained, throwing open the door. He surveyed my room, littered with inventions. The only areas where the floor was bare consisted of a path from the door to the bed, and another path from the bed to the closet/dresser. Thaal scowled and shook his head. "I spoke too soon."

I glanced up from my work. "Back so soon?"

"Soon?" Thaal scoffed, "It's been nearly twenty minutes. I'm dying of hunger! Arno insisted we come back here and eat with you. My stomach is digesting itself I'm so hungry! Come out here and get something to eat!"

I stood, carefully making my way to the door. "What did you get?"

"Some Corellian cuisine, Mon Calamari curry, a few Ferengi pancakes, and some _gagh_," Thaal said with a slight grimace. "I don't know what _gagh_ is, but it's wriggling. I don't think I'm going to eat it."

"From what I've heard, I wouldn't recommend _gagh_," I agreed, surprised at the eclectic variety of food they'd managed to procure in twenty minutes. "Where did you find the food?"

"Oh, Arno managed to find some old, rundown part of town with a bunch of weird food that he insisted would be much better than anything _normal_ we could find on main streets…" Thaal explained, pointing at the table, which was loaded with… unconventional… nourishment.

Arno was eyeing the food with undisguised delight. "I can't wait to try these things," he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"Yeah. '_Things_' is exactly how I would describe this stuff too," Thaal grumbled. "Not '_food_', '_things_'. Are you worried yet?" he asked me.

"I have yet to experience an adverse reaction to anything I've ingested," I informed Thaal.

"Yeah, but you haven't had _gagh_ yet," Thaal argued, pointing at the wriggling, wormlike food in a large bowl.

I watched with slight queasiness as a bit of the sauce that the food was squirming in splatted out of the bowl and onto the tabletop. Fervently I hoped there were no foodborne pathogens present in the unique cuisines that Arno had selected.

"Let's eat!" Arno cried, slopping a bit of everything onto a plate and handing it to me.

I sat down, picked up a utensil and poked the _gagh_. It squirmed away from my touch, and I quickly turned my attention to the Ferengi pancakes, which seemed to include something _recently_ alive, instead of ingredients that were apparently _still living._ In the end, Arno threw away most of the _gagh_, but vowed to purchase more Ferengi pancakes for the following breakfast.

After lying awake in bed for nearly an hour with a stomach that refuses to settle, I suspect I shall have to venture into the city myself to purchase victuals- or become accustomed to gastrointestinal discomfort.

I'm not sure which would be more difficult.

I would almost rather suffer the repercussions of unusual cuisine than walk the streets I once flew over… Returning to new metropolis has planted doubts in my mind that seemed irrelevant when there was such a vast distance between myself and the Legion.

But I can only consider this in private. If Thaal and Arno learned of my misgivings, I have no doubt that they would tell me exactly what to think and when. But of what use can I be to the Legion if I do not know what I want, or understand my own fears and desires? I suspect that returning to the legion will take far longer than either Thaal or Arno assumed when we departed…

I can only hope that my newfound friends can offer me their patience and acceptance as I struggle to understand my motivations, and ultimately, myself.

* * *

A/N: I'm throwing in more Star Trek and Star Wars references, simply because it's so much fun to mix'n'match! Eheh… Thanks Jay5merlin, your updates reminded me that I definitely need to start working on this again…

Additional A/N: I would have posted this last week, but somehow I ended up with two "entry 3's", and one of them was incomplete. (It's now Entry 4, don't worry.) I immediately assumed that my computer ate the rest of Entry 3 and went into a frenzy trying to find my backup files that I create nearly every time I edit one of my stories, whether it's original fiction or fan fiction. Of course, the backup copy looked the same as the document on my computer, which just made me angry at myself and computers. Suffice it to say, I eventually recognized my mistake and have apologized to my laptop for accusing it of doing something it didn't. We're back on good terms, and I've finally updated. All is well. ^_^


	4. Entry 4

Document 1278803-4576b

_-Keypad initiated-_

**Entry 4-**

"Brainy! Your hair is back!"

"It was never gone, Thaal," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, well, it isn't blue anymore," Thaal qualified his statement. "And your skin is green again."

"I'm not sure of the wisdom in returning me to my original appearance," I told Arno.

"Please," Arno snorted. "Your hair is longer, you've got green eyes, and the haircut I gave you is absolutely sublime."

"Yeah, it says, 'I'm insecure so I'm half-covering one eye with my hair, and I'm letting the rest grow longer because I'm nerdy'," Thaal interjected.

"This is a very fashionable haircut," Arno protested.

"Oh please," Thaal snapped, "It's almost identical to the way his hair looked three years ago." He glanced at me. "There were pictures in your bio."

"No baby pictures, I hope," Arno quipped. "Those are always the embarrassing ones, like the ones where you're half-naked and carrying around a rattle or something equally babyish."

"Yeah, well, in Brainy's case he'd be running around in a diaper carrying a quantum microscope in one hand and a lexicon in the other," Thaal sniggered.

"I like my hair," I assured Arno, changing the subject and shooting a disgruntled look in Thaal's direction.

"Here's some foundation and gloves," Arno said, handing me a bottle and a pair of black gloves.

"I have my own gloves," I said, handing the gloves back. "So, what color am I supposed to be today?"

"Just a normal beige-peach skin tone," Arno said, handing me a hat. "Put this on too."

"That is a very nerdy hat," Thaal pointed out. "It practically screams 'I crunch numbers for fun'."

I shrugged, dabbing some of the foundation on my cheeks and forehead. "I do, to borrow the colloquialism, 'crunch numbers' for fun. What's your point?"

"It's a weird-looking hat," Thaal scowled.

"It's just weird because I found it first," Arno explained. "He was too busy looking for an outfit for you."

"At least I found something somewhat fashionable," Thaal grumbled.

"It looked like something a color-blind person would wear," Arno retorted before glancing at me. "I got you something that won't stand out, but isn't hideous either."

"I don't understand what's wrong with my old clothes," I commented.

"You bought them before you left New Metropolis, right?" Arno prompted.

"Yes. Your point?" I asked, failing to see why this made any difference.

"So, in the off chance that someone saw you buy them, we got you a different outfit to wear when you go outside," Thaal explained.

"This sort of precaution borders on paranoia," I commented dryly. "I don't think anyone would have noticed…"

"Hey, we don't want you being hounded by reporters until _after_ you give me an exclusive interview," Thaal reminded me.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

"Speaking of which, when _will_ you give me an interview?" Thaal asked. "I've been waiting a long time…"

"You aren't even technically a reporter yet," I reminded him.

"Yes, but this could be my big break!" Thaal replied.

I rolled my eyes a second time. "Would now be all right?"

"No," Arno snapped, "because I haven't gotten my tour of new metropolis yet."

"I hear it looks better from the air," Thaal commented offhandedly.

"Yes, well, I don't have a flight ring, or any components necessary to make a flight ring, nor do I wish to pilot an aircraft through new metropolis air traffic after having been off-planet for the better part of a year," I retorted.

Thaal winced. "Ooh, the traffic's that bad, huh?"

"The air traffic in New Metropolis is atrocious, to put it mildly," I said.

"That's putting it mildly?" Arno asked incredulously. "Then I _really_ don't want to fly."

"It can't be as bad as riding with Cselia," Thaal said, shrugging.

"Yes," I said, "It can. Why do you think I invented the flight ring?"

Thaal and Arno stared at me blankly.

"That was a joke," I said after a moment, intending to end the blank stares that necessitated my statement.

I received more blank stares.

"You just made a joke?" Thaal finally ventured.

"It has been known to happen upon occasion," I snapped.

"It's just that… well, you've been sort of edgy ever since we got here," Thaal explained.

I frowned slightly. "Really?"

"You have a green spot under your eye," Arno said briskly, "And I still want my tour of New Metropolis…"

I laughed. "Very well. Let's go, shall we?"

I must admit to being slightly surprised by Thaal's insight. I had not realized that my inner struggles were known by my two friends. Perhaps, in their own way, they were trying to get me out of my own head, trying to make me acknowledge the rest of the world, instead of "hiding in my lab", as my fellow teammates had often accused me of doing.

For the first time, I began to understand why my teammates had tried to keep me from isolation. The human soul is not meant to be alone, and as such, cannot comprehend a soul that holds no aversion towards solitude.

Even I have found myself longing for companionship, and, in coming to terms with my humanity, I am better able to understand those around me. I, like my friends, no longer wish to be alone.

* * *

A/N: I'M SO SORRY! I promise I haven't abandoned this story, I simply haven't written anything in nearly two months! I'm at college, I'm fighting to keep my head above water (drowning under a 20 credit workload), running frantically from general chemistry labs to model united nations conferences and everything in between... It's enough to make someone wish they'd never attempted higher learning, let me tell you.

But it's fun. I just get nothing besides homework done anymore...

On an authorly (not a word) note, I really wish I had more time for this fic. If anyone who has me on alert is wondering why I keep updating this new Naruto fic of mine called 'Absolution', but haven't updated this thing at all, it's because I have the first fifteen chapters of absolution COMPLETELY finished, and just haven't found time to upload them. (Yes, I'm pathetic)

Anyway, I finally churned out a pathetic little chapter for this fic, and THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all of the faithful readers and reviewers who haven't given me up for dead yet. Your reviews are the only things that are keeping me writing these things at all. If It were up to me, I would spend my free time curled in a ball under my bedcovers or staring blankly at political advertisements (I mean, seriously, there are more commercials than shows on TV anymore...).

Without you guys, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfics at all right now... So thank you for reminding me that there ARE people out there who don't know what happens next in my story. (I mean, I know what happens next 'cause I'm writing this, so I don't think of anything as much of a cliff hanger...)

Anyway, now that I've written more in my author note than I have in the actual chapter, stay tuned! (maybe I'll find time to write another chapter by next year... :p)


	5. Entry 5

Document 1278803-4576b

_-Keypad initiated-_

**Entry 5-**

Once outside, I quickly realized that I should have brought two leashes with me in order to keep track of my tourist friends. Since this was their first time visiting New Metropolis, they acted foolish, running to and fro with no concern for traffic, tourist traps, or unsuspecting passers-by.

"Oh look!" Thaal cried in excitement, "Kamino's Consulate General! And the Consulate General of-"

I ignored him for the moment, trying to figure out where Arno had disappeared to in the last five seconds.

"Hey Brainy, what's down here?" Arno asked from behind me. I whirled around to spot him about fifteen feet away, pointing down a busy street. "It looks cool!"

I sighed loudly before raising my voice. "Both of you come here and please attempt to restrain your yourselves for a few minutes."

Thaal paused and looked at me, still pointing at the Consulate General of Kamino. "…What's wrong?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Come here, please."

Thaal and Arno meandered over, still distracted by the unfamiliar sights and sounds of a bustling midmorning New Metropolis. "What?" Thaal grumped at me. "I thought you were making _jokes_ earlier. Why did you suddenly become so crabby?"

"Because you two are acting like mindless dunderheads who've never been off the family farm, that's why," I retorted. "You two are wandering around, gaping at nothing in particular. That's just _begging_ to have your pockets picked, your purses snatched, the wool pulled over your eyes, and experience other undesirable circumstances."

Thaal mock pouted. "You're being mean," he whined, before straightening up suddenly. "And what makes you such an expert, anyway?"

"In case you'd forgotten, New Metropolis isn't _my_ hometown either," I reminded him, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. "I had to learn the _hard_ way. I'm just trying to make things a little easier for you two."

Arno nodded slowly. "So, what do you recommend we do?"

"Obviously it would be impossible to explore all of New Metropolis in one day," I said, "So you should chose a district to explore. The nearest districts are the Cultural district," I inclined my head in the direction of the Consulate Generals that Thaal had been drooling over minutes earlier; "the market district," I nodded in the direction Arno had been pointing; "the heritage district," I pointed my chin straight ahead, "and the tourism district." I glanced over my shoulder to indicate the location of the tourism district, behind myself.

"Shouldn't we go to the tourism district first?" Arno asked hesitantly.

"It would be a great place to start if you wish to be 'ripped off' and 'fleeced' and generally waste your money without having much to show for it," I said, shrugging.

Arno blanched. "Er… being a poor, starving art student… I don't have a lot of pocket money."

I nodded. "Exactly why I _would not_ recommend beginning your tour in the tourism district."

Thaal scowled. "Of course you wouldn't, since that's not what any tourism information packet says," he grumbled, eyeing his handheld padd with disgust.

"Who sells the tourist information?" I reminded him, smirking. "Who makes more money off of a _tourism information packet_ than someone working in the _tourism district_?"

Thaal considered that for a moment before shrugging. "Good point."

"The heritage district is full of museums, art galleries and educational centers. Thanks to substantial grants from various firms and prestigious companies, most of the attractions in this district require little or no entrance fees," I told them. "The Cultural district has Consulates, interplanetary relations hubs, and-"

"Legion HQ," Thaal interrupted me. "Am I right?"

I nodded. "Yes, Legion headquarters is also located in the heart of the Cultural district."

Thaal frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Okay. I think I want to go-"

"The heritage district!" Arno said excitedly. "I want to find some art galleries and some museums. I've heard that if you go to galleries in New Metropolis, you'll be able to see exhibits from just about every member planet of the UP."

I nodded slowly. "Generally speaking, that's a fairly accurate evaluation of the Heritage district."

Thaal smirked at Arno. "A bunch of old, dusty museums with stuff that I've never seen before? Sounds like fun to me…"

Arno gave Thaal a disgruntled look. "You know you'll find it interesting," he told him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," Thaal said offhandedly, staring off into space.

Arno glanced at me in concern, before turning to Thaal. "If you don't want to explore the heritage district…"

Thaal grinned then. "Nah, I was just having too much fun messing with you!" he said, elbowing Arno and shooting a grin in my direction. Weakly, I responded in kind, giving a halfhearted smile of my own.

I must confess feeling a great amount of relief that Thaal did not get a chance to voice his desire to visit the Cultural District first. It would have been rather difficult for me to see Legion Headquarters. Although I have tried to forgive myself for what I have done, I still struggle to rectify myself with my previous actions. Seeing Legion HQ, everything I betrayed and destroyed, would have been too difficult to bear on my first day back in the city proper.

Perhaps, in time, I could bring myself to lay eyes on Legion HQ without the heaviness of guilt constricting my chest and abdomen. But for now, the mere thought of coming close enough to see it brings a sick feeling of dread to my stomach. I wonder if I will ever be rid of these sensations, or if I will be forever cursed by the guilt that viciously separates me from the one place where I can be myself and truly feel at home.

* * *

A/N: I must confess feeling a great amount of disbelief that it has taken me this long to update, and for this travesty, I beg your forgiveness. I could make all kinds of excuses about school, work, home life, internet issues, and other niceties, but it's really beside the point. I must thank Artemisgirl91 for PM-ing me with the all-important question of whether or not I planned on updating this fic, to which I could only think, "Of course I'll update it... when I have time. And inspiration..." Fortunately, inspiration struck not soon after. Sometimes all I need is a little reminding... and some free time.

I'm sorry to my readers, but in my writing, original fiction always comes above fanfiction. Since I have had very little time to write lately, I've only really been writing original fiction. I really do have a lot of ideas and plans for this fic, but I lack the time necessary to really do anything with this fic. I have not given up on Brainy and his plight- truly. But it may be quite a while before anything is resolved, and I'm sorry to any readers who were expecting me to update sooner- a not unreasonable expectation.

Be that as it may, I thank those readers who have not given this fic up for lost, and I hope to have something more up in the near future. After that, I'm not sure when my next update on any fanfic wll occur.

As another quick side note, if you're bothered by my frequent updates to the fanfic "Absolution" while all my other fics seem to be pining away, please note that I have not written more than five pages in Absolution in the last two months. It really is all just pre-written, I promise, whereas I have no pre-written work for this fic. My apologies to anyone who is confused by what appears to be me speaking out of both sides of my mouth.


	6. Entry 6

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**Entry 6 -**

I'm not sure if I am capable of expressing the myriad of thoughts and emotions in which I find myself thoroughly embroiled. So much has happened, and I have had precious little time to come to an understanding of recent events. Emotions can, when devastating and unrelenting, sufficiently distract even a mind such as my own.

I find myself with very little time to compose myself, and very little time to compose anything meaningful with which to make sense of the maelstrom of emotions that have overwhelmed me. When I wished to be human, somehow, I imagined that feelings of happiness, joy, hope, and euphoria would be much easier to experience and preserve. Instead, I find that rather than pleasant emotions, it is the devastating emotions such as guilt, pain, fear, and regret that are the easiest to encounter, and they do not readily depart.

I currently find myself plagued with damaging emotions, and I am unsure of how to overcome and subdue something that tears at my very core. For once, my mind is useless, as I find my mind _cannot_ reason with my emotions. Instead, I find myself steadily descending deeper into myself, my feelings, and I feel as though my mind has become entrenched, bogged down by the vast ocean of emotion that is consuming my every thought.

Somehow, I thought that, with time, I would be able to clear my mind of the clutter of unnecessary emotions, and return to a semblance of normal. But I am finding that the more I try to reject these emotions of mine, the deeper I bury them, the more they clutch at me, drag me under, fight for control.

The idea that I could be controlled by my emotions is frightening… Where once I could catalogue reactions and file them away, I find now that it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to put away feelings, emotions, experiences, and bury them deep within me. Even expressing myself in this document, attempting to make sense of what has occurred to me, is not enough.

When will I be able to withstand the storms of emotions that seem to come and go at will? When will I be free of the terrible feelings that consume me, and then drain away and leave me numb?

Perhaps a better question would be: _Will_ I ever be free of my emotions? The answer, I fear, is "no."

And if that is the case, then how can I ever be sure that I am doing the right thing? Should my emotions overrule my practical mind? Or is my mind the enemy? Is my logical mind corrupted, or is my heart leading me astray? How can I ever know what is right, when I have two warring factions within myself?

I find myself plagued by these questions, questions of morality, and the nature of man, and I fear I have no answer. I have brought this upon myself. I never should have agreed to return to New Metropolis. I thought I was ready.

I now know that I was sorely mistaken.

* * *

A/N: It always bugs me that I can write so much and post so little. This is one of four chapters that I've written. But I have issues with posting, as is probably obvious by now.

I realized that I haven't had many introspective pieces for awhile, and despite the fact that Brainy's convinced this isn't a journal, that's really what it's started to look like. So now we have some philosophizing so Brainy can continue to say that it's not a journal. By the way, if anyone's wondering why he's freaking out, stay tuned. All will be explained in time.


	7. Entry 7

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**Entry 7 -**

Time does, as the old proverb says, heal all wounds. I find myself in a better state of mind, and I feel as though I am now capable of communicating the host of disastrous encounters that I have endured this day.

Currently, I write as I wait. Already, Thaal has (of course) once again accused me of "journaling," a frivolous pursuit which I attribute to an inflated sense of self, an egoistic practice with which I refuse to associate myself. I am not "journaling," I am merely recording the day's events in an attempt to make sense of what has happened, what I have witnessed, and what may become of it - much like a scientist takes note of everything that occurs during the course of a day in the lab.

I am my own subject, and the world - or in this case, New Metropolis - is my laboratory.

Today, I believe that I have acted foolishly. Yet somehow, I have felt more _alive_ than I have for some time prior to today's events, regardless of the trouble they have caused me. But I'm getting ahead of myself. It started out so very innocently, with Thaal and Arno racing about the Heritage district of New Metropolis like two children set loose in a candy store.

I, however, had already spent quite some time in the Heritage district during my time as a Legionnaire. As such, I felt no desire to dash hither and yon, point at random museum exhibits or unfortunate bystanders, shout after my companions, or generally behave in a juvenile manner. Since I was not engaging in the reckless frivolities of my companions, I found myself alone for extended periods of time. I often found myself gazing at whatever happened to catch my eye while I waited for Thaal and Arno to realize that I would not overly exert myself following them on their multitudinous flights of fancy.

I was reclining against the wall one such time when Thaal and Arno had taken off in opposite directions in almost the same instant, when I caught sight of a young man acting peculiarly. He was glancing around agitatedly, shoving his hands deep into the folds of his curious attire a billowing, yet somehow form-fitting robe. After several furtive glances in all directions, the young man pulled an odd device from somewhere within his billowing robes and laid it against the case of an unusual exhibit.

My interest was piqued. What was this young fellow doing? Was he trying to _steal_ something in broad daylight? Did he not realize that this museum had top-of-the-line security systems, guards, and probably various other advanced technologies to protect their exhibits?

Something in me seemed to say _"you should get closer."_ A foolish notion, indubitably, but I followed my "gut instinct" and sauntered towards him, though of course I paused at an exhibit where I did not have a clear view of him. However, if I turned at a thirty-eight degree angle and edged left two steps (two actions which I performed in a most unobtrusive manner), I could make out what he was doing perfectly in the reflection of the base of the holographic projector that I was standing before. The image was, obviously, rather distorted, but I was able to determine what his actions were by carefully analyzing the movements of the reflection.

It appeared that the young man slid his odd device across the thick transparinum case, once again glancing around furtively. Of course, I gave no indication that I saw what he was doing. A light on the device flickered green- or so I thought. I was beginning to wish that I could actively improve the clarity of my vision through the use of a simple algorithm- but as I had no onboard computer with which to actually make use of the algorithm, my knowledge of it's efficacy proved quite meaningless under the current circumstances. I bit my lip lightly in irritation, focusing my attention quite fully on the reflection. It seemed as though the young man had somehow managed to retrieve a second device, though I wasn't entirely sure what he was doing with it, as he'd turned his body slightly and I no longer had a clear view of his hands.

I edged along to the next display, hoping to get a better look at what he was doing. He appeared to be… reaching into the case. In the next moment, his hand slithered out, and I saw a glint of _something_ in his right palm- then it disappeared into the folds of his cloak. But I could see nothing absent from the display case. Unless… Perhaps a hologram? He could have slid in a small holographic projector, and replaced whatever he'd stolen with the projector. If I hadn't been watching him so closely, I probably wouldn't have noticed what he'd done, and since nothing appeared to be missing from the case, I doubted anyone else would have noticed. My mind ticked off possible conclusions, and I quickly settled for the most logical conclusion.

The device he had used must have countered any security system related to the case (as no alarms were ringing and no security guards had come running). Therefore, I concluded that he had likely found a blind spot in the cameras. It appeared as though he were just going to turn around and walk out of the museum as though nothing had happened.

I gritted my teeth. It wasn't right, to fool people into thinking that they are gazing upon a piece of their history, and instead they are only looking at a cheap holographic projector. Additionally, it isn't right to make money by stealing something that should be considered an object for the _people_, not a private collector. And he was _stealing_. Stealing is a crime. Personally, I felt as though his actions and how they reflected on his consideration for the museum and its patrons was somehow worse than a simple burglary. If he had stolen a souvenir from the gift shop instead of a possibly priceless artifact, I probably would have been far less upset.

As it was, I whirled around and stalked towards him as he ambled towards the exit. I scrambled for something to say that would catch his attention but would not scare him off. Fortunately, Thaal did it for me. "Hey Bvril!" he shouted from the top of the stairs, "Do you have any money for the gift shop?"

I made general shushing motions and gesticulated in the young man's direction, but at the moment, Thaal was deeply entrenched in a state of mind that I have since termed "oblivious tourist mode"… Hence, he had absolutely no idea what I was attempting to convey. I endeavored to make use of a form of hand sign communications about which I'd read a book several years prior, but all I received for my efforts was a confused look from Thaal. Meanwhile, my antics had caught the attention of a few of the other individuals who were viewing the exhibits in the front hall.

"What are you doing?" Thaal shouted from the upper floor, mimicking me by waving his hands around in mock octopus motions and dancing around in a circle. "Did you forget that the flash mob is tomorrow?"

I pointed frantically at the young man, trying not to notice that I was now the center of attention, and that several people were edging for other wings of the museum. I likely appeared to be a lunatic, gesticulating frantically and still trying to stay on the heels of the young man, who was attempting to appear "normal" and meander towards the door.

If I hadn't been leaping about and waving my arms like a lunatic directly behind him, he probably would have looked very normal. As it happened, he was the only one who hadn't turned around to see who was addressing "Bvril" regarding a "flash mob" that was supposedly occurring one day hence. I didn't know what to do. I had no evidence that he had _actually_ stolen anything, merely that he _may_ have possibly pocketed an artifact. I wanted a security officer to apprehend him, but all that appeared to be happening was several other museum goers decided to flee into adjoining exhibit halls.

I paused my antics, slumping in defeat. How was I supposed to stop him from doing something illegal if I had no legal right to detain him, or evidence that he was even doing anything wrong? Suddenly, I felt foolish. Just as I turned to walk away, feeling dejected, a Security guard burst into the room, shouting _"Halt!"_ in a loud voice.

Two things happened at once.

I threw my hands up in the air and shouted "Finally!"

The young man whirled around and caught sight of me less than a pace away. He froze, spotting the security guard, and glanced at me. I lowered my arms slightly, turning to face him. He spun around to run, and spotted two more security guards at the entrance.

"Surrender yourself," I advised him quietly, "It would be more beneficial for everyone involved, including yourself."

At my words, the young man froze, his eyes widening with something that wasn't quite horror, but also not surprise. The look in his eyes was one of… desperation, and it seemed almost frightening to me.

"Get away!" he hissed, hunching his shoulders, still glancing back and forth, searching for an exit route. "I have no business with you."

"I believe you do," I replied swiftly, feeling angry. "You deactivated the security systems on an exhibit, replaced one of the objects with a holographic projector, and now you intend to walk out of this museum with the valuable object." My mind racing, I continued to speak before I could consider the ramifications of what I was saying. "If you confess, I am certain that-"

I was cut off by the singularly most unpleasant sensation of a knife being held to my now human, very vulnerable throat. I swallowed nervously, watching the young man's hand. "Er…"

"Shut up," the young man rasped. "You don't know what you're doing, trying to mess with me."

_No,_ I thought weakly, _I really don't. This was a foolhardy thing to do._ Outwardly, I shifted my gaze to his face and locked eyes with him. I tried to keep my face calm, and appear unafraid. Somehow, despite my vulnerable position, I didn't feel _afraid_. I was rapidly calculating possible outcomes, trying to discern how best to disarm him, pondering what it might feel like to have my throat slit, determining how long I would live should my throat be cut, and wondering how this young man managed to sneak a knife past the security at the entrance. All of this I thought at once, but surprisingly enough, I was not afraid.

The young man, however, was panting shallowly, and sweat had broken out across his brow. His eyes were wide, and his hand was shaking ever-so-slightly. I was slightly concerned that his shaking might cause his blade to break the skin on my neck, but otherwise I felt remarkably calm and in-control.

"You don't want to do this," I said ever-so-quietly. "Do you?"

His eyes narrowed and he pressed the blade a bit harder against my throat, sliding around behind me so that his arm was wrapped around my neck, knife still resting against my jugular vein. "Shut up," he said again.

I swallowed, and tried again. "Do you have a contingency plan for getting out of this?"

"Yeah," the guy snarled, "It's called 'taking you hostage'."

"That only works if I cooperate," I told him quietly. "Who is to say that I will willingly accompany you as your hostage?"

"You wouldn't risk your own neck," the guy growled, glancing around the room frantically.

"Why not? There's no guarantee that you'll actually be able to sever one of my jugular veins or carotid artery," I said calmly, though my statement was certainly debatable. I had never really found that particular probability a vital statistic… not that he would know the difference if I'd had the time to actually research the topic.

The guy's grip slackened ever-so-slightly. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What kind of guy just follows some thief around, and has the gall to not be afraid when he's being held at knife point?"

It was a good question, though I hardly felt up for a conversation regarding my mental state at that point in time. Meanwhile, the six-or-so security guards had exchanged concerned glances, and were currently shouting for people to clear the room. Some small part of me noted Thaal shrieking from the upper floor, and a few more security guards were entering the room.

…the security guards were…they were entering the room…

…Thaal was being obnoxious…

As I was trying to say, the guards were coming in and Thaal was being obnoxious…

…though not nearly as obnoxious as he is being at this moment in time.

I must endeavor to educate him regarding the many virtues of silence. Though perhaps I should refrain from making comments until I have heard everything he has to say. Nevertheless, he had no reason to label me an "antisocial nitwit who is having a love affair with his Journal"

… I fear I must rectify this immediately.

In this case, Thaal was, unfortunately, acting rightly in his untimely interruption. I have pressing business to which I must attend. There is, of course, still more to this story that I must work through before the night is up. Therefore, I will postpone this tale until later, when I have the time to continue.

* * *

A/N: Firstly: Thank you all for your kind reviews, and stay tuned for the next chapter, which IS FINISHED, have no fear, I'm not going to leave you hanging from this cliff for overlong. PLUS, since Brainy is writing this afterwards, you at least know that he's going to survive the encounter, and that's good news when he's being held at knifepoint… right? Right? Just put the rotten vegetables down slowly, very good, thank you…

You don't know how many times I had to edit this dialogue between Mr. Villain and Brainy. Plus, I brought back the dreaded "Bvril" for old times' sake! (I do find it amusing, which is mostly why it randomly reappeared. Just imagine that between this entry and entry five, Brainy reminded Thaal and Arno to cease referring to him as "Brainy," to which Thaal replied, "Sure thing, Bvril!" - Of course, I had nowhere to put this in the current chapter, and it rather interrupted the flow of entry five also. So use your imaginations as to how or when this brief snippet of conversation occurred, 'kay?

Back to previous topic: the reason why the dialogue was so hard for me to get working right is that Brainy kept changing his mind as to what the heck he was doing. One minute he was apprehending the criminal barehanded, then he decided he was actually too timid for that, then he was impersonating a plainclothes security guard, and then decided even that was too forward, and also immoral. (Tell a lie? Never! I did chop down that cherry tree! …wait… ) So then he started dancing around and flapping his arms and attempting to send landing signals to wayward airplanes, or something like that. Anywho, that's how this scene ended up. And no, Mr. Villain does not yet have a name, hence the oh-so-creative title. (It was either that or "young man," and there are already entirely too many "young men" in this fic to just say "the dialogue between the young man and brainy" at the beginning of this Author note… :/ meh.

Thanks for reading, folks. Including the too-long author note, haha.

PS: Speaking of too long, I wasn't planning on cliff-hanging you when I started this story, but the entry got too long, and I'm trying to keep them below three pages apiece. Sorry… I just figure if Brainy's sitting and "journaling" for much longer than three pages, Thaal would be poking him and bopping him on the head, and would never let him live it down…


	8. Entry 8

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**Entry 8 -**

I have returned to finish pondering the events of this day, and all that has happened in it, and how it has affected me. When I ended my previous entry, I was being held at knifepoint by a young man who was obviously in over his head. (Technically, I was being bothered by Thaal. But in the story I was relating, I had been at knifepoint.) Just when I was beginning to think that the young man might listen to me and forsake his blade, a security guard rushed into the room, startling myself, the other guards and, of course, the fellow holding a knife to my throat.

"The Science Police are on their way!" the security guard shouted, as if to reassure me.

Of course, this news really didn't affect me one way or another, but it completely unhinged the young man holding me hostage. "NO!" he shrieked, "NO POLICE! NO POLICE OR HE DIES!"

The shouting really was not doing my throat any good, as shouting involved heavy use of the diaphragm, which meant that his torso jerked and his shoulders jerked, which made his arms jerk, which jerked the blade against my throat. Absently, I wondered if this young man had taken melodrama lessons as part of his burglar training, what with the low snarling responses to my comments, his gravelly growls, and now the shrieking over a little thing like the science police. He was like a thug from one of the bad movies that Bouncing Boy inflicted upon the Legion on a regular basis.

Even as I considered this point, I found myself suspecting that the knife might have broken my skin during his shouting, since I could feel a gentle trickle oozing down my throat now. Absently, I wondered what the young man would think of my green blood. After all, I appeared to be a human male, but I had a feeling that the odd color of my blood might surprise him. It made sense, that having green skin that I would also possess green blood. However, as my skin was currently slathered with Arno's makeup and hidden underneath leather gloves…

I blinked, feeling foolish. Leather gloves! I had been so worried about my human frailty that I'd overlooked the simple fact that I was wearing leather gloves! I could simply grab the knife, twist it from the young man's hand, and be rid of this matter in record time! I glanced down slightly and reached for the blade, when the young man dug the knife into my throat, and I felt another trickle of blood trail down my neck.

"Don't even think about it," he snarled.

I sighed. So much for leather gloves. I didn't think I was fast enough to tug it away before he _really_ cut me. "Look, why don't we call this a truce?" I asked. "You leave, I leave, and we never see each other again."

"Except there's the problem of the Science Police right outside," the young man snarled. "And six security guards."

"Seven," I reminded him, thinking of the guard who had delivered the unpleasant news that the Science Police were on their way.

The young man's grip slackened slightly. "That doesn't help your case any," he commented, sounding confused.

"Yes, well, that's hardly the point," I replied. "Obviously, you can't count."

"Shut up," he snarled.

Oh, back to the melodrama, were we? I found myself rather bored with the whole proceeding. It sounded as though most of the other people in the museum were far more disenchanted with the idea of a knife being held to my throat than was I myself. The worried whispers, muffled sobs, and occasional cry indicated that most others seemed to be quite affected by the trauma of this incident.

I found myself strangely calm. I reflected on this as I stood there, a bit of blood trickling down my neck and pooling on my collarbone. Perhaps it was because I'd found myself in harrowing situations so many times that this hardly seemed worth my notice? Was it that I no longer cared for my life, and did not feel concern over the thought of whether or not it would continue? Could it be a sense of certainty that justice would prevail despite what circumstances might indicate? Or perhaps I simply felt that there were better uses for my energies than being afraid for something over which I have very little control. I really have no say in my life span, when I live or die, unless I were to take my life into my hands. In which case, what point is there in worrying over whether I live or die? At least if I died, I doubted this fellow would get away with stealing… or murder.

Although, once it occurred to me, it felt a bit foolish that I would sacrifice my life for some small trinket stolen from a museum- especially when people probably wouldn't have known the difference between the trinket and the hologram, had the burglary been successful.

I was just musing over what could be considered of the same value as a human life when a strikingly familiar voice broke through my musings.

"You there! Release that young man immediately!"

From behind me, I heard Thaal shriek in exhiliration. "It's the _Legion of Superheroes!_" he shouted excitedly.

I cringed. _Perfect. This is just what I needed to end this day "on a high note"… _Of course, Cosmic Boy's order did little to convince my friend with the knife to do anything but tighten his grip, which allowed another drip of green blood to trickle down my throat. _Please don't let them notice I'm a human bleeding green,_ I thought frantically. _That's the last thing I need right now._

I was wondering how they were going to get me out of this situation anyway. Would Phantom Girl make use of her intangibility? Cosmic Boy could probably do something. Absently, I wondered why on earth the Legion decided to intervene in this situation. It wasn't as though the young man had any special abilities or anything like that. Shouldn't the science police be allowed to deal with this?

"Hey!" I heard another familiar voice shout. Triplicate girl? I couldn't move my head for fear of the blade, but I tried to look with my eyes. I couldn't spot her. "You! With the knife!" she shouted, addressing my blade-bearing friend again.

The guy's grip had slackened substantially, and due to my relaxed stance, he had apparently decided that it was acceptable to "let his guard down." With Triplicate Girl distracting him, I made my move.

I quickly snaked my right hand up to the blade, sliding my fingers between the blade and my throat. At the same time, I plunged my elbow into his abdomen, hard. I stomped my left foot down and back in tandem with my elbow, and my heel caught the inside of his foot. With my hand on the blade, I pushed it away, spun around and slid out of his grasp, shouting "Ha!" as I did so and punching my fists into the air. I was feeling ridiculously victorious for having been so unskilled that I'd ended up spending a good twenty minutes at knifepoint.

Snarling angrily, the young man lunged at me, knife flashing- but it almost seemed to be moving in slow motion as my mind analyzed his movement, noted his foot position and how he'd overextended, putting his weight too far forward. It was like my one action had kicked off a whole instinctive part of my brain that I hadn't realized existed, and I pushed my arm out, sliding in along the knife's trajectory and striking the inside of his arm, avoiding the blade by mere inches as I swept my foot into his instep, grasped his shoulder, yanked him forward and down, striking the back of his neck as he stumbled and fell.

The knife clattered across the floor and the young man with robes lay on the ground, unmoving. I quickly knelt by him, felt for his pulse, found it, and nodded. He was alive, disabled, and would be taken away by the Science Police. All in a day's work, even if it had required some tolerance of uncomfortable situations to get there.

"Wow," someone said from behind me, "Nice moves."

I turned around. "Thank…you…" I trailed off awkwardly.

Karate Kid was positively beaming at me, hand extended to shake.

I clapped a hand to my neck, hoping he hadn't noticed the green blood. "I… I… um. Um." It was as though all powers of speech had abandoned me in my moment of need. "Um," I said again, more urgently. I glanced around, hoping to spot Thaal or Arno. I had no such luck. I was alone, facing old team mates for the first time since I'd left, and every movement, every glance, every smile was like stabbing a knife deep into my abdominal cavity. They were coming closer, asking me if I was feeling well, did I need anything, was I hurt; they were telling me how brave I was, how impressed they were, encouraging me, congratulating me. I wanted to run away and hide under a large boulder, preferably at the bottom of the ocean on a deserted planet in the outer rim of the galaxy.

My only consolation was that Saturn Girl did not appear to be present. She would have known it was me instantly. The only members present were Karate Kid, Cosmic Boy, Triplicate Girl, and Phantom Girl. I was relieved that there were so few, or I might have lost it then and there. (And the patrons of this museum had thought me crazy when I'd attempted to get Thaal's attention…) As it was, I nodded blankly, hand firmly clasped to my neck, hoping they didn't notice my green eyes or blonde hair, wondering why I hadn't worn a large, hooded cloak when I left the hotel this morning. Or a steel collar.

"Guys, give him some air," Phantom Girl ordered after a moment, "Can't you see the guy's shell-shocked?"

Well, that wasn't the exact term I would have used, but it at least got them to move back a few paces. Unfortunately, it also meant that they were beginning to scrutinize me carefully. My stomach clenched suddenly, and I tasted a bitter, biting fluid in the back of my mouth. Frantically, I ducked my head and pushed past Phantom Girl and Cosmic boy, rushing towards the nearest restroom. I barely made it to the nearest toilet stall before emptying the contents of my stomach.

I was not distressed by being held at knifepoint. Rather, I was feeling a myriad of mixed emotions at seeing my old friends. Guilt, despair, longing, hope, fear; emotions flooded through me, tore at me and gripped me for an undetermined amount of time. Slowly I rose from my position, kneeling before the toilet, and found my way to the sink, washing my hands and splashing some water on my face to clear my head before realizing that I'd just _splashed water on my face_. I glanced at myself in the mirror- green was showing through, my paltry disguise washed away by my foolish act.

It was in that moment when Thaal chose to barge into the restroom. "Oh, there you are, Bvril!" he exclaimed, then paused. "Uh…"

"I mistakenly wetted my face in a moment of absent-mindedness," I noted softly, glancing at him in the mirror. "I have ruined my disguise."

Thaal frowned slightly. "You're bleeding, too," he said, sounding concerned.

"Not much," I said. "Do you know where Arno-"

"Say no more, I'm sure he brought something. He's more paranoid than you are…" Thaal smirked. "And that's sayin' something."

"I shall shut myself into a stall until you return, lest someone else enter this restroom in your absence," I murmured, moving to the stall in a near-daze, now feeling empty of emotions rather than overwhelmed by them. I stood in the stall, trying not to think (which, admittedly, is difficult for someone like myself) or _feel. _Too overwhelmed to fully comprehend all that had happened in such a short span of time, I rested my forehead against the stall door and allowed tears to pool in my eyes and spill over. Releasing the lacrimal fluid did wonders for my emotions, and I felt myself gradually growing calmer.

Arno entered not long after, and-

Once again, I am being interrupted. I must go, for if I do not, Thaal will once again accuse me of "journaling" despite my many protests to the contrary. I will return to this analysis of my day post haste.

…if Thaal would be willing to leave me alone for another hour…

A/N: Wow. I thought this story would be over, but somehow it just drags on…and on…and on…

Sorry. On the bright side, you guys get multiple chapters! Yay! I don't think I've ever carried on a single story for more than four entries, except for the Jonis saga (no, that's not it's official title) from Document 1278803-4576a.

Okay, so I went and just read all of Document 1278803-4576a and decided that no, this was not really a continuing story that drags on… and on… and on… On the bright side, the chapters have gotten longer! ^_^ This one was actually just OVER three pages long. Hooray! Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.


	9. Entry 9

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**Entry 9 -**

Now that I have satisfied Thaal for the moment, I can return to my analysis of the events that transpired earlier this day. I was interrupted after I recalled the intense emotional response I experienced. Arno entered not long after I had dried my eyes and sat staring blankly at the wall.

"Brainy? Are you in here?" Arno whispered. "Er… I mean, _Vril_?"

I stood slowly and opened the stall door. "Present," I said softly, my voice slightly unsteady.

Arno frowned in concern. "Brainy…" he said softly, "Were you crying?"

"I do not see how my emotional state could be relevant information at this juncture," I snapped, unwilling to admit such a thing.

"Well, your eyes are…green-rimmed… and I thought I should know if you were maybe allergic to your disguise," Arno explained.

"It is hypoallergenic," I said slowly, feeling confused. "It is unlikely that I would be allergic to something that is hypoallergenic."

Arno frowned. "Maybe, but you're also a biological Coluan. Who knows? —er, that's beside the point," he said quickly, glancing around nervously as I shot a distressed look in his direction.

I hoped no one was near enough to overhear that particular revelation. "Just re-disguise me, please," I said.

Arno nodded and handed me some foundation. "Here," he said. "Go ahead." He frowned. "It's weird to see _green_ bloodshot eyes," he noted quietly.

I scowled. "Perfect. Are the Legionnaires gone?"

"Er, no," Arno said. "They wanted to be sure you were okay. Thaal's holding them off."

"I'm not leaving this restroom until they are gone," I told him firmly, feeling my stomach begin to churn.

"Look, Brainy—Vril – you can't do that. They want to see you, and they aren't going to leave until they know you're okay."

I shook my head adamantly. "Have the Science Police stay and let the Legionnaires…"

"Brainy, come on, you're logical. Think about this logically," Arno said sympathetically. "They're heroes. They just want to know if you're all right."

"But I'm _not_ all right!" I cried suddenly, voice cracking as I collapsed into sudden hysterics. "I _won't_ be all right until they go! _Please_, Arno, make them go away! _Please_!" My eyes grew wet as torrential emotions once more crashed down on me. "_please_," I whispered once more, brokenly.

Arno nodded thoughtfully. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," I said softly. As he left, I began to reapply my disguise.

A moment later, Thaal poked his head in. "Bvril," he said softly, "I, uh… look…" he coughed awkwardly. "They aren't leaving."

I clenched my fists and tried to fight back a sudden surge of anger. "Why not?"

"They're concerned, and… well, yeah." Thaal shrugged. "Look, can't you just—"

"That's just it, Thaal," I said, whirling around. "It's not _just_ anything! Those are the people _I_ hurt, _I_ betrayed, and _I_ don't want to see them right now."

"That's awfully selfish of you," Thaal noted. "For someone who wants to be a hero…"

I glared at him, going back to applying my disguise. "I do _not_ wish to be a hero for the attention and glory, and certainly not to get the attention of the people I _betrayed_."

Thaal scowled. "Well then why _did_ you jump in like that?"

"I don't know!" I snapped, nearly poking my eye out as my hands began to shake. "I _had_ to! He was going to take that artifact! It wasn't right!"

Thaal blinked. "Why didn't you call the security guards?"

"I _tried_ to get your attention, genius," I snapped. "It seemed to do _wonders_." I was angry, angry at my former teammates for refusing to leave, angry with Thaal for not making them leave, angry with myself for being afraid, and angry with myself for being angry for no good reason. I could hear the cutting tone emerging from my mouth and it hurt me because I could see how it hurt Thaal. I did not wish to hurt him and yet I _did_ wish to hurt him, to show him how much _I_ was hurting. As if bringing emotional anguish to my friend would somehow make my own pain more bearable. I swiped angrily at my face for a few moments, touching up my disguise, before glancing at Thaal in the mirror. His eyes were downcast, shoulders slumped. He had no answer for me, and seeing what a few of my words could do hurt me far more than I'd expected. "Thaal," I said softly, "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. Please do not take any of my words to heart, I'm simply transferring my emotional dismay at this situation to you and your actions. Will you forgive me for being irrational in this instance?"

Thaal chuckled, glancing up. "How could I not forgive someone who apologizes like an encyclopedia?"

"I have never heard an encyclopedia apologize," I told him, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt such an event has ever occurred."

"Yeah, well, if it did, it would sound almost exactly like what you said," Thaal shot back, smirking.

I sighed, hanging my head. "Could I just stay in here forever?"

"…I don't think that's a good idea," Thaal said after a moment. "They might come in after you, and then we'd be in a real pickle."

I shot him a look. "How would we fit inside a brine-soaked cucumber?"

"…" Thaal stared at me for a long moment. "Are you doing this just to annoy me, or are you stalling for time?"

"Both," I admitted.

"Well stop!" Thaal growled. "Come on, let's get out there."

I nodded slowly, moving towards the door. "Do I look…?" I was unsure of how to finish my sentence.

"Oh no," Thaal whispered suddenly. "Brainy, you're still bleeding."

I frowned. "No, I'm fairly sure I staunched the bleeding sufficiently."

Thaal pointed at my neck. "You're still bleeding."

I frowned, turning to face the mirror. It was true—I was bleeding again. I didn't understand. I'd been just fine moments earlier. Unwilling to lose my resolve, I swiftly grabbed one of the towels by the sinks and pressed it to my neck. "This will have to do. I hope it doesn't bleed through," I said, squaring my shoulders. "Let's go."

Thaal laid a hand on my shoulder. "You're really brave to do this, Bvril," he said.

"Thank you," I said softly, glancing at him. "I appreciate your support."

"And my charming good looks?" Thaal added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, not so much," I replied, smirking.

Thaal sighed, shoulders slumping momentarily. "Ah well," he said, grinning at me, "worth a shot."

I rolled my eyes.

Now I find myself obligated to roll my eyes yet again, as Thaal has apparently tired of "bugging" Arno and now feels obligated to bother me. I shall never finish releasing all of my pent up emotions if he continues to interrupt in this way. Perhaps I should incapacitate him…

…an interesting proposition. I shall return.

* * *

A/N: And hopefully I, too shall return. (ahem, prepare yourselves for screaming. You might want to acquire some earplugs)

GYAAAAAAAAAAAH! Noooooooooo! I never intended for this to happen! I always get so angry at Fanfic authors who put stories on hiatus without warning people, and then suddenly I turned into one of those people! *bows repeatedly* I BEG FORGIVENESS! I could blame college, I could blame life, I could blame other extenuating circumstances, but mostly it's just me. I was not really "inspired" or "motivated" but those are just words and I should be able to write even if I don't have either of those, I've done it countless times before. So, I really have no excuse whatsoever. This is a shoddy, tiny chapter that should tide you over, and I apologize profusely for making people wait so long for me to get my act together. Really, if I didn't have a thing against profanity, I would probably be swearing about how poorly I've treated this story and my readers, and I can't apologize enough.

Then again, you weren't reading this just to hear me mope around and bash myself. Soooooo, as soon as this is posted, please know that I am returning to my fanfic and shall continue typing and hopefully finish up this little vignette in Doc12788034576b. AND THEN MOVE ON TO THE REAL JUICY STUFF THAT I INTENDED FOR THIS STORY. (Because yes, I do have a plan...) So again, I apologize, I'll try to do better, don't throw any rotten tomatoes, and hopefully I shall see you soon! Stay tuned!


	10. Entry 10

Document 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 10-**

Thaal has been appropriately dealt with and will not bother me again tonight. Or tomorrow, should I so desire. Additionally, Arno has departed to acquire some food and to do some sketching. Additionally, I believe he plans to perform an in-depth analysis of the modern architecture of New Metropolis. Therefore, I should theoretically be free to finish my analysis of the day's events. Of course, they will only be 'today's events' for another fifteen minutes. Time has slipped away from me. Such is the nature of any attempt to quell such a boisterous and rambunctious individual as the ineffable and inimitable Thaal.

When I was last forced to cease my analysis due to one of Thaal's many moments of immaturity, I had just finished recounting my emotional breakdown in the restrooms. I had steeled myself and had decided to face my former team mates, who had remained behind after the break-in despite my deepest wishes that they depart. Apparently my actions had made an impact of some sort, and they wished to speak with me. I was unsure why, but I decided that facing them would be unavoidable. So, with a paper towel pressed to my neck where I had begun bleeding again, I exited the restroom, mind already racing with cover stories and ways to manage a semblance of a conversation.

Thaal glanced up as I exited the restroom. He had been talking to Cosmic Boy and Triplicate Girl. "Oh hey, Bvril!" he called. "Nice of you to finally show up!" he half-pranced over, before dipping down next to my ear to whisper a quick bit of advice. "Don't talk like a dictionary. Your vocab will stick out like a sore thumb."

"I thank you for the vote of confidence," I replied.

"Keep working on it," Thaal suggested, clapping a hand on my shoulder before turning around to head for the group of superheroes with me.

"Hey… how…I mean, are you okay?" Cosmic Boy seemed to be at a bit of a loss for words (an unusual phenomenon, to be sure).

"I'm sorry to make you wait for me," I said, trying to keep my words down to four syllables. Whenever I used vocabulary that was too complex for Bouncing Boy, he would come up to me and ask me to "say that again using fewer syllables". It didn't always work (apparently there are words with relatively few syllables that are still considered 'confusing'), but I decided that in this circumstance such a method may prove prudent. I also attempted to make use of contractions. "I was…overwhelmed."

"Of course you were," Phantom Girl exclaimed. "You single-handedly stopped a robbery, _and_ you were held hostage by a psycho criminal with a knife."

"Is that your wound?" Cosmic Boy asked me, indicating the paper towel.

"Yes. I mean yeah." I was trying to use 'less cerebral' vocabulary, but succeeded only in looking like an idiot. "It's just a scratch." I said, feeling my face heat up. I really hoped that Arno's foundation would hide any sign of a green tinge.

"You want me to look at it?" Triplicate Girl asked.

"I'd prefer a doctor," I answered blandly with a bit of a sheepish smile. "No offense."

"None taken," Triplicate Girl assured me.

"You were very brave to do what you did," Karate Kid told me.

"I wasn't brave, I was stupid. I put myself in danger over a silly artifact. He replaced it with a hologram. No one would have even noticed it was missing except me." I scowled.

"Then why did you try to stop him?" Cosmic boy asked in confusion. "I mean, if it was so stupid…"

"I… I don't know," I said, still rather confused on that point. "I just… I needed to. I didn't have a choice."

The other heroes exchanged confused glances. "You didn't have a choice?" Phantom Girl asked, sounding slightly baffled.

"Well, technically yes, but no. I mean…" I gestured helplessly. "Thaal, help me out here."

"You're on your own here, buddy. I'm as confused as they are," Thaal said. Some friend he was. Not being able to recognize my gestures, not able to chase off the Legion, and now he couldn't even interpret for me. See if I ever brought _him_ anywhere with me again!

Sighing, I gestured abstractly with my unoccupied hand (the other one was still pressing the paper towel to my neck). "I had to help. I had to stop him. Because he was _wrong_."

Cosmic Boy frowned in confusion. "So you're saying you had to stop him because he was doing something wrong?"

"He needed to know that there are people who care about doing the right thing!" I exclaimed. "I'm one of them. I care. I want people to do the right thing."

"And so you do the right thing," Cosmic Boy said approvingly.

"Not always," I said, feeling shameful. "I… I've done some pretty bad things in my life. But I've learned from my mistakes, and I want other people to learn from their mistakes, to recognize their mistakes. And stealing from a non-profit museum is a mistake."

Cosmic Boy nodded approvingly. "That's a good answer. It's too bad you don't have any super powers. I'd ask you to join the team in a heartbeat. You know we're holding auditions soon."

I shrugged. "I think I heard something about that. I don't have any special powers though. I'm just a normal guy."

"I don't have any powers in the traditional sense," Karate Kid told me, "and there was a place for me on the team."

"Yeah, well, I don't even have any skills like that," I said, "but uh, thanks for your consideration?" I glanced at Cosmic Boy. "Um… I still feel really shaky, and thanks for sticking around, but I kind of want to get checked out by a doctor and go home and sleep for a really long time."

Cosmic Boy and the other Legionnaires nodded in understanding. "You're a real hero…uh…"

"Bvril," Thaal supplied.

"Bvril? I've never heard that name," Cosmic Boy mused.

"Bet you've never heard the name _Arno_ either," Arno grumbled, wandering over. "Come on, Bvril. You look pale."

"Oh-okay," I said weakly, allowing him to slip an arm around my shoulders and lead me away. I realized that I was shaking.

"You did really well back there," Arno told me, sounding pleased.

"There is a distinct possibility that I may vomit again," I confessed quietly.

"Thaal, come on! Quit rubbing elbows and help me get Bvril to the doctor so he can have his cut looked over!" Arno called over his shoulder.

Thaal called some sort of apology over his shoulder and joined us. "See? That wasn't so bad!"

"No, I suppose not," I said. "But I do feel ill."

"Oh, stop whining," Thaal said.

The room was out of focus, and my eyes did not seem to be doing their jobs appropriately. "Ahm…not wahning…" my words slurred together, and suddenly my arm felt much too heavy to hold at my neck. I barely noticed as my hand dropped from my neck, and I stared down at the towel, which was heavily stained with green on the underside.

"Oi! Bvril! What are you doing?"

"It must be the stress!" Arno was saying, his voice ringing in my ears as my consciousness drifted away.

"Bvril? Bvril!" Thaal called. Dimly I realized he was shaking me, but the only thing I could think was how they were going to explain away my green blood.

Fortunately, Arno had possessed the presence of mind to scoop up the towel and hide it away, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it to my neck. Apparently in my attempt to keep the bleeding down I'd applied too much pressure to the side of my neck. Between the blood loss, stress, and undue pressure on several vital arteries and veins, I lost consciousness for approximately ten minutes. I have since recovered from this little 'fainting spell'. Unfortunately, Thaal was convinced that I had NOT recovered. I was obligated to fasten him to the ceiling with a new adhesive I invented in order to keep him from constantly babying me and coming in to inform me that I need to eat, drink, or 'move around to get the blood flowing'. Because apparently blood flowing from my neck was not enough 'blood flow.' I am unconvinced of this.

I continue to contemplate my reactions to this event, as well as my response to the events. I wish to continue to contemplate, but Thaal is currently making loud noises. He must have found a way to remove the gag. I will return at a later juncture.

* * *

A/N: Well, I managed to make you all wait a long time again. I am such a horrible person. I kind of hate myself right now...

Oh well. At least this story is starting to go places... Hope I still have one or two readers left! (though I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't... peh.)


	11. Entry 11

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 11-**

Thaal managed to detain me before my departure early this morning, and demanded to accompany me. I was wearing ethnic garb of a desert people from a little-known rim world, which effectively disguised most of my features. Since I had intended to journey outside of the city, I was not overly concerned about the functionality or practicality of my disguise. Once outside new metropolis, I intended to go to a certain wilderness protection area that is relatively isolated. Since I lacked a laboratory with sufficient materials and technology to test some of my newer inventions, I was planning to test them in an isolated area.

I had packed a bag with the inventions, and also a wide variety of equipment and devices should any of my inventions require in-the-field (no pun intended) adjustments. Unfortunately, as I have only recently converted from a mechanical entity to a biological organism, I still struggle with estimating exactly how much weight I can lift, and exactly how long I can carry said amount of weight.

This morning, I attempted to heft my bag after packing it full, and nearly caused myself the unfortunate medical condition of _prolapsus disci intervertebralis. _I believe Thaal later referred to it as 'slipping a disc,' an inaccurate usage of terminology, yet an amusing descriptor. But I digress. I attempted to lift the bag, and nearly damaged my back in the process. Following this failed attempt, I endeavored to "lift with my knees," which, oddly enough, still requires one to do most of the lifting with their arms. Finally I managed to hoist the bag enough to half-drag it across the floor to the door. I could not remove any of my equipment from the bag—I would need it all for the day's project—but I was struggling to drag it across the hotel room to the door without waking Arno or Thaal. I had decided to let them sleep in, and then they could explore the city together. I had left a note on the holoscreen in the main room before going to retrieve my bag.

The desert garments felt somewhat suffocating with all of this exercise to which I was unaccustomed, and I could feel drops of perspiration running down my back and face as I made yet another desperate attempt to lift the bag. I managed to raise it about five inches and scuttle towards the door for about fifteen shuffled steps before my fingers began protesting. I attempted to continue moving, but I accidentally bumped my knee against the bag, causing it to jerk against my fingers and drop to the floor, landing on my right foot and crushing my toes. As I was attempting to "sneak" out, I could not allow myself to make a sound, and instead found myself whisper-hissing several nasty words I'd learned from Garth and clutching at my toes, hopping up and down on one foot.

For future reference, hopping on one foot is a fine activity if you are coordinated. Unfortunately, I seem to lack sufficient adroitness, and thus found myself not only injuring my toe, but also tripping over the offending bag and causing the floor to become an intimate acquaintance of my face.

It was at this exact moment when Thaal wandered out of his room, appearing slightly annoyed and also unrested. "Brainy, it's still early. What are you…?" Thaal's eyes opened fully, his mouth fell open, and he clapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to squelch his laughter. He was only marginally successful. When he could finally speak again, he finally asked me what happened.

By this time I had managed to make it back to my feet and was deliberating between glaring at my bag or glaring at Thaal. "I fell," I told him. "On the floor. Could you not see that?"

Thaal just gave me a look. "You know what I mean," he said. "And what's with the bag? What's in there anyway? And why are you trying to move it?"

"I'm going out for the day," I explained.

Thaal glared at me. "No, you are not."

I blinked once, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You are not going out today," Thaal said, sounding slightly angry. "Yesterday we went out and you almost _died_. You're not going out today."

"Thaal, I don't know if you realize this, but were I to return to the Legion, I would be risking my life on a regular basis," I spoke with a fair amount of sarcasm. "Also, you have no right to tell me what to do."

Thaal stared at me for a long moment, a challenge in his gaze. "Fine, then I'm coming with you," he said.

"You and Arno have never been to New Metropolis before. You should enjoy the city. I will be fine on my own for a day," I told him.

"Uh-huh. Because obviously you were fine yesterday. And you were probably fine earlier when you tried to drag this bag outside." Thaal appeared highly unconvinced. "Besides, Brainy, you're probably still weak from blood loss."

"Thaal, I am in perfect health. I have a small scratch on my throat, and that is all. I am fine. I will be fine."

"I'm coming with you," Thaal repeated.

"You and Arno—" I began.

"Arno can go to that boring art museum thingy he wanted to see, and I will come with you and make your life interesting," Thaal said, bending down to grab my bag. "Besides, someone needs to carry this for you since you're obviously not man enough to—" his voice broke off in a high-pitched squeak as he tried to pick up my bag. "Brainy! What do you have in here, _lead_?"

"Necessary items," I responded.

Thaal gave me a look. "Are they _all_ necessary?"

"Yes," I replied, giving him a peeved look.

"Hey, what's all the noise out here?" Arno asked, coming from his room. "Oh, hey Brainy," he said, before glancing at my bag and tilting his head slightly, considering it for a few moments. "Going somewhere?"

"If Thaal would ever let me leave," I said, glancing at him in irritation.

"How are you going to leave with it?" Thaal demanded, still struggling to lift the bag. "You can barely drag it across the floor without slipping a disc!"

Arno frowned, considering the bag momentarily. "Hold on a sec," he told Thaal, scooting the dark-haired young man aside. "Let me try."

And then, just to make Thaal and myself feel like pathetic weaklings, he lifted the bag with barely any effort at all. Thaal pointed and sputtered at Arno for several seconds, before turning away and muttering something about 'home planets' and 'gravity' and 'not fair'.

"So, where are we going?" Arno asked me with a grin.

I sighed, and turned to the door. "Come on. We have a public transport to catch."

* * *

A/N: Oddly enough, I have found inspiration AND time simultaneously! That never happens! Hooray!

Well, I'm hoping to get this fic back on track. The last few chapters were NOT in the plan (though I thoroughly enjoyed them), and I'm kind of frustrated because this fic seems to have a lot more action and I really wanted to get some more emotional/introspective/angst Brainy. Ahhhhh, but characters just sort of do their own thing, and I can't really make them do what I want them to or it just doesn't end up working out right. It doesn't feel authentic. So I guess that means I'll just have to follow Brainy around and spring Angst on him when he's least expecting it. MWAHAHAHAHA!

Welllllll, in the meantime, enjoy the next few upcoming chapters , because I know that I'm enjoying the writing process, so I hope you enjoy the reading process every bit as much. Thanks for your patience!


	12. Entry 12

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 12-**

"So what exactly are we doing, Bvril?" Thaal asked me, settling into one of the seats on the public transport. Arno slid my bag underneath his seat, and glanced at me, a similar question in his gaze.

"We are going somewhere out of the way to test my inventions," I explained. "A wilderness preservation area."

Thaal and Arno exchanged glances. "Aaaand, the reason you need a wide open space like that is…?" Thaal prompted. "And please don't say because of—"

"Potentially dangerous accidents?" I shrugged. "Unlikely, but I can't dismiss the possibility."

Arno frowned. "Then why are we going way out of the city?"

"I will need room to properly test my inventions," I explained, noting with discomfort that we were attracting the attention of other individuals riding the public transport.

"That makes me nervous," Thaal confided.

I decided that just telling the truth in this instance might actually shift attention from myself and onto another topic. "Look Thaal, you may not have realized, but Legion Auditions are scheduled for exactly two weeks from today, and I need to test my inventions if I stand even a slim chance of succeeding. I don't have any super powers. So I need to be able to prove that I have skills and abilities that make me a valuable asset."

Thaal blinked in surprise, and the look on his face said 'YOU JUST TOLD EVERYONE ON THIS BUS YOU'RE TRYING TO GET INTO THE LEGION.' "So… they're inventions to help you be a superhero?" Thaal asked. "Not some other weird invention?"

"An inability to understand how and why I have developed various inventions does not give you the right to label them as 'weird'," I told him seriously.

"Okay, okay," Thaal said, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry."

Arno settled for observing the exchange with mild amusement.

"So… these inventions… they won't, like, explode, right?"

"It is a wilderness protection area. Bringing explosives into the area seems like a foolish notion, wouldn't you agree?" I gave Thaal a mildly irritated look. I have twelfth level intellect. Apparently Thaal had decided to make a habit of forgetting this minor detail.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to get huffy!" Thaal responded, sinking back into his seat and folding his arms, making a 'pouty face.'

I rolled my eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"Gee, thanks," Thaal shot back, before sitting up suddenly. "So do I get to try any of them?"

"I thought they made you nervous," I shot back with a smirk. "But yes, actually, I could perform more complex testing now that you have forced your presence upon me."

"You make it sound like a bad thing!" Thaal complained.

I gave him a look. "Well, isn't it?"

"You're mean," Thaal whined.

"Thank you," I responded with a small smirk. "I try."

By now, most of the other patrons riding the public transport had gone back to whatever they were doing. Thaal leaned over closer to me. "_What was that all about?_" he whispered.

"_You are incorrigible,_" I replied just as softly. "_Why did you have to bring up my inventions? That causes suspicion._" I shot him a frustrated glance.

"_Then why the whole 'Legion Auditions' thing?_" Thaal replied. "_Isn't that more suspicious?_"

"_Who would believe that you-know-who is trying to join the Legion again?_" I shot back with an incredulous look._ "Additionally, most people still think of level-twelve intellect as a superpower. So stating that I 'lack a superpower' implies that I do not have level twelve intelligence without stating it outright, which is far less supicious._"

Thaal gave me a pitying look. "_I think you're paranoid, kid._"

"_I'm not a kid,_" I hissed quietly, glaring up at him from under my desert-dweller's hood.

"_You're like, sixteen,_" Thaal shot back. "_I'm pretty sure that qualifies as 'kid'. Especially when Arno and I are nineteen._"

"_I'm still smarter than you,_" I shot back.

"_You've always been smarter than everyone,"_ Thaal shot back. "_That doesn't count_."

"You two sound like a bunch of leaking airlocks! Can we talk about something where we can all be a part of the conversation?" Arno interrupted at that point.

"Sure. Bvril is just being snippy because he doesn't want to talk about his invention ideas _in public_," Thaal snorted. "Like someone's going to steal his ideas or something."

"It's wise to be cautious!" I said, playing along.

"Okay Bvril," Arno said, adopting the name Thaal had christened me with, "when I said we should all be part of a conversation, I meant all three of us. I didn't mean for you and Thaal to continue your argument in a louder tone," Arno said, rolling his eyes. His large grin rather ruined the chiding tone of his comment.

I sighed. "Okay. What should we talk about then?"

"Um…" Thaal glanced at Arno for help. Arno was already back to staring out the window and sketching furiously. "I thought you wanted to be part of the conversation!" he complained.

"I can sketch and talk at the same time," Arno argued, still gazing out the window.

"No you can't!" Thaal shot back. "Everyone knows you're a horrible multitasker!"

"You're the one who's bad at multitasking, not me," Arno replied, still sketching.

"I take offense at that comment!" Thaal argued.

I couldn't help rolling my eyes as the argument continued. I had a distinct feeling that this was going to be a very long ride…

* * *

A/N: Before anyone asks: NO, VOLDEMORT IS NOT GOING TO BE ATTENDING LEGION AUDITIONS. updating this took a lot longer than I expected. Summer job training is murder. Also, my laptop appears to be suffering from heatstroke, which basically means i get 1/2 an hour with it before i shut it down or it will forcibly shut itself down. BUT WHO WANTS TO GIVE UP THEIR LAPTOP DURING THE SUMMER TO HAVE IT FIXED? (or really, who wants to give up their computer ever?)

I hate computer issues. I draw, write fanfics, write original fiction, photoshop, listen to music and also read on my computer. It's like all of my life hobbies wrapped up into one machine... and I don't like being forcibly separated from it. All that to say, writing is going slower than I expected since this poor computer needs frequent 'cool down' breaks... Pardon me while I scream. And if anyone feels like intercessing on behalf of my computer I would appreciate it, but I understand if you think praying for the people suffering from human rights abuses in the middle east (or north africa, or southeast asia, etc.) could use the prayers more than my machine...


	13. Entry 13

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 13-**

Finally we arrived at our destination, and I disembarked the public transport, followed by Thaal, who was glancing around suspiciously, and Arno, who was carrying my bag for me. I started trudging away from the bus station, only to have Thaal chase after me. "Heeey," he complained, "where are we going?"

I glanced around, taking in the scenery and mentally referencing it with the graphs of the area that I'd memorized before leaving that morning. "The wilderness area is approximately eighteen point five miles distant," I told him, pointing in the general direction.

Thaal stared at me. "You mean we're _walking_?"

"For another twenty-six feet," I answered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as we continued walking. It would be nigh impossible for me to walk that distance in a single day... Dismayed by this realization, I made a mental note to begin exercising more regularly. "After walking the approximate distance of twenty-six feet, I intend to begin field testing an anti-gravity enabling device and friction reducer, combined with some interlinking antigrav weight-bearing harnesses and a jetpack."

Thaal blinked several times in rapid succession. "And in Interlac…?"

I felt a sigh building up inside me but managed to resist releasing the burst of pent-up air. "I will be fastening you and Arno to an improvised belt-like device and strap a jetpack on myself, and we will fly to the wilderness area."

"Won't we be heavy, though?" Thaal asked.

I resisted an urge to apply my hand to my forehead with a decent amount of force in order to produce a satisfying smack. I believe this motion is referred to as a 'facepalm' in common vernacular. "It's an anti-gravity belt and linking harnesses."

"But what about-?"

I cut off Thaal before he had a chance to ask another obvious question. "I have a third harness for the bag."

Thaal's shoulders slumped. "Oh. Okay." He glanced around suddenly. "Did you say _jetpack_?"

I nodded.

"But…but…but…" Thaal was staring at me with confusion. "But… but…but…"

I waited through several more intonations of the monosyllabic utterance before interrupting. "Thaal? Allow me to attempt utilizing a popular colloquialism: _I don't have all day_."

"But what about the ring?" Thaal finally sputtered, pointing to his right hand demonstratively.

I stared at him. "Oh, you mean a flight ring? An item I invented exclusively for the Legion that would not be at all remotely suspicious for someone else to have conveniently re-invented? Not to mention the fact that the rings are composed of a rare and expensive element and require specifically designed manufacturing facilities to create them..." I gave him a hard look. "Honestly Thaal, twelfth level intellect is not a requirement to consider the repercussions of using a _Legion-specific_ technology when I'm going to be testing materials that will aid me passing myself off as a super-inventor at Legion Auditions."

Thaal appeared properly subdued. "Yeah… I guess you're right…"

I nodded at him before turning to Arno. "We have traveled a sufficient distance. If you would gently place my bag on the ground I would be most appreciative." Arno proceeded to drop the bag to the ground, which caused it to let out several disconcerting clinking noises and created a decent-sized dust puff. I allowed myself a sigh. "Arno?"

"Yeah?" Arno said, glancing at me and tilting his head slightly.

"Is that your definition of 'gently placing' my bag on the ground? I have highly volatile and unstable experimental equipment and mechanisms inside that bag. If you are incapable of safely conveying them then I will make use of my antigravity belt for the remainder of the trip and will even risk being discovered with such technology on the public transport."

Arno rubbed the back of his head, appearing sheepish. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It had better not. I can't exactly say something like that to Thaal if you drop it again and we are caught in an explosion."

"Hey!" Thaal yelped, "How come I'm the one who gets blown up?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and unzipped the bag, retrieving the antigravity belt, harnesses, and jetpack. Thaal stalked around me, eying the equipment as I strapped the belt around my waist, wound the two crisscrossing chest straps over me, then fastened the jetpack to my back where the straps crossed.

"Isn't that a little…small?" Thaal asked me.

I frowned. "You think it would be _better_ for my antigravity belt and jetpack to be bulky and cumbersome?"

"Well, no…I just didn't expect it to be so small, and…"

"Elegant!" Arno butted in, tracing the edge of the small round propulsion jet. "It's a fantastic design!"

"It's ergonomic. Practical. Friction-resistant," I said. "It's made to be functional, not beautiful."

"Beauty and functionality are not always mutually exclusive." Arno informed me. I was aware of this fact. However, I had not realized that any of my designs could be considered aesthetically appealing.

"Fascinating," I noted aloud, before handing each of them a harness. "Put these on." I held out helmets with faceplates also. "And these." I slipped one on myself, then gazed at them expectantly.

Thaal and Aarno exchanged glances, then complied. I snapped their harness leads onto my own belt, then strapped the bag to myself as well. "Hold on to your harnesses," I warned them.

Thaal frowned. "Why?"

"Because it will keep your arms from flailing uselessly in midair," I snapped. "Hold on." With that, I activated the jetpack and we took off, Thaal shrieking like a child in distress. I was going to enjoy the next few minutes of flight. Thaal was going to hate me. A tiny smile tugged at my mouth, and I allowed myself to enjoy the sensation of bodily flight for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

* * *

A/N: Yay for testing equipment! I am really excited for the next chapter, which hopefully will only contain minimal explosions and hopefully no lasting damage to any of the characters... I am still kind of curious about how Brainy used to test his inventions with the Legion... Did he just walk up to people and say "Here, put this on"? Or did he have people he hired to test things? Maybe he experimented on himself...? There's a long and somewhat creepy mad-scientist history of inventors testing things on themselves...

Eh, whatever... Anyway, stay tuned for your next lovely chapter! I do hope to be heading towards Legion Auditions sooner than later, and now you guys have a decent idea of how Brainy plans to get back into the Legion... but it's probably not going to be as straightforward as Thaal and Arno might think it should be... hahaha, I am really enjoying this... Anyway, if you're enjoying this anywhere near as much as I am, feel free to leave a review! If you'd rather not, that's fine, and thanks for reading anyway!


	14. Entry 14

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 14-**

"Brainy, if I die, I'm going to kill you," Thaal informed me, staring down at what he had recently termed a 'flimsy wimpy belt-thingy'.

Nearby, Arno was fiddling with the gauntlet that had nearly injured Thaal before. "So does this work now?" he asked me.

"In theory," I replied, turning back to Thaal. "If you die, how are you going to kill me?"

"I'll come back as a ghost," Thaal told me with a scowl. "I don't care if you don't believe in ghosts. I'll do it."

"Well, good luck to you," I replied flippantly, pulling out a few other pieces of equipment and slipping a chest plate over Arno. "If it starts to get too warm, let me know first before trying to take it off. It might burn you."

Arno glanced down at himself in concern. "Um…it feels warm now."

"Arno." I gave him what I hoped was a sufficiently displeased look. "It hasn't even been activated yet. It is completely cool."

Arno tugged at the collar anxiously. "You're sure?"

I scowled and pushed back the face shield on his helmet so I could look him in the eye. "I'm certain. Cease your complaining." I followed this statement with a quick return to the pile of equipment, fastening a mechanical boot-like mechanism over Arno's left foot. "This is not your dominant foot, correct?" I verified with him.

"My left? No, my dominant foot is right. I'm right-handed too," Arno said. "But why does it matter?"

"It would be better to give you the dominant foot, but I'm giving Thaal the right one," I explained. "His dominant foot is his right foot and he needs it more."

Arno frowned in confusion. "But I have both gauntlets…"

I ignored him and headed back over to Thaal with the other reinforced boot-like instrument, which I connected to his right foot. "I'm sorry I couldn't provide two boots for this, but this should make do for the moment."

Thaal stared down at his foot as though my mechanism were eating it. "I'm not going to die, am I?" he asked me.

"Only if you do something stupid," I assured him before pausing momentarily. "That is, an act of stupidity that contains a greater quantity of idiocy than your average moments of foolishness."

Thaal swallowed hard. "Oh…kay…"

I returned to Arno, buckling a lower-body armoring over him. "Now, if you two will pardon me for a moment, I need to slip this on." I said, revealing a thin black jumpsuit with small stiff wires threading through it.

"It looks like the gauntlets," Thaal said, frowning at it.

"It is made of similar materials, designed to…" I reminded myself that Thaal would want simpler words. "…to make my muscles work more quickly. And also augment – " Thaal's blank look caused me to pause and seek a new word. "That is, amplify… er, enhance?" Thaal nodded in understanding. "It makes my muscles work more quickly and enhances my strength, allowing me to perform acts that my own muscles would not be able to perform without its assistance." I gestured to the back of the suit, particularly the neck. "It will link with my central nervous system along the cervical vertebrae."

"That sounds dangerous," Thaal said.

I shrugged. "Not particularly. Now avert your eyes please."

Arno nodded and turned away. Thaal continued staring at me in confusion. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I am not in the habit of performing strip teases for my friends. I need to put this on to test it. Now turn around!"

Thaal blanched and quickly whirled around. Arno snickered. "What's so funny?" Thaal demanded, and the two bickered while I quickly slipped on the jumpsuit.

"You may turn around now," I said, but the two continued bickering. I sighed, and slid the third helmet back on over my head. "You two, stop, and pull your visors down," I said, knowing it would transmit my voice into their helmets.

Arno and Thaal complied. I returned to Arno, clipping outer components onto the gauntlets. Arno eyed them with fascination. "They're so small. What's the power source?"

"You," I answered. "or technically, your bodyheat."

Arno blinked in surprise. "You can power things with bodyheat?"

I sighed. "Well, it wouldn't be very convenient if I had an external power source, which could be easily damaged and is not self-sustaining. Don't worry, I do have a backup source in case I happen to suffer from hypothermia or the like. However, this should be sufficient for what I have planned."

Thaal was eyeing the components with distrust. "Those look awfully like weapons, Brainy."

"They are," I replied. "Now, Thaal, if you would head out that way," I pointed in one direction, "And Arno, you go that way." I continued, pointing in the opposite direction.

Thaal continued to eye me with suspicion. "Why are you giving Arno weapons, Brainy? Don't I get weapons?"

I gave him a look and pointed. "That way."

"Brainy. Why don't I get weapons?" Thaal's voice had an edge of hysteria to it.

I sighed. "Because Arno doesn't have a force-field belt. You do."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" Thaal shouted. "So you're saying that ARNO IS GOING TO SHOOT ME BECAUSE I'M WEARING THIS WIMPY BELT THINGY?" he gestured at the belt demonstratively.

I shrugged. "Essentially."

"NO." Thaal shouted, "NO WAY. YOU ARE NOT DOING THIS TO ME."

I shrugged. "All right, I'll wear the belt," I said, reaching for it.

"Wha- wait, hey, no!" Thaal said suddenly, clutching at the belt and moving away. "What if you get hurt?"

This was getting ridiculous. "Thaal. Either give me the belt or _walk in that direction,_" I pointed, "But stop vacillating. It's growing tiresome."

Thaal glared at me, folded his arms, and stomped off in the direction I'd pointed. He slowed to a stop about fifteen feet away. "REALLY?" he shouted, pointing at the belt, "You couldn't make it sturdier?"

I made shooing motions at him.

"THIS IS INSANE!" he shouted at me, before whirling around and stomping a bit further.

"That's far enough," I called after him

Thaal whirled around, aggression obvious in his stance. "NOW WHAT?"

"You could stop shouting, for starters," Arno said. "We are using headsets, remember?"

Thaal's shoulders slumped slightly. "So?"

"So, you're hurting my ears." Arno sighed.

"Arno, would you please shoot Thaal?"I said blandly.

"WHAT? HOW DO I WORK THIS DEFENSE THINGY! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?" Thaal shrieked.

"Brainy…how do I…?" Arno sounded awkward. "…will I hurt him?"

"Just think about shooting him," I explain. "Visualize it in your head."

"WHAT?" Thaal yelped.

Arno nodded jerkily. "Okay, visualizing…"

Suddenly, the weapons on Arno's gauntlets whined, and the shoulder section whirred quickly, blasting off several rounds towards Thaal. Before he had the chance to shout yet again, a magenta-hued shield expanded from the belt, providing him with a 360 degree range of defense. Thaal threw his arms up around his face as the laser pulses exploded in his face.

"GAH! YOU!" Thaal whirled and pointed at me. "YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!"

"Nonsense," I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't have given you a force field if I'd wanted you dead."

"SHOOT HIM NEXT TIME!" Thaal shouted in frustration, pointing at me.

Arno's head began to turn towards me. I saw the first problem with the neurological uplink technology that operated these weapons.

"SPROCK SPROCK ARNO NO!" I shouted, diving sideways, knowing it wouldn't be fast enough. "JETPACK SPROCK FLY!" I shrieked, glad I hadn't removed it. As I took off, laser fire clipped my ankle, searing across sensitive skin. For a moment, the pain burned through my mind, halting conscious thought. Then another shot ripped across my abdomen and into my shoulder, jolting me back into awareness. I dove downwards, nearly driving myself into the ground as I propelled myself behind Thaal, clutching at his torso. The force field belt repulsed any remaining laser fire, and then Arno's voice was screaming.

"BRAINY, BRAINY, I'M SORRY SPROCK BRAINY NO, NO, BRAINY!"

Thaal hadn't even found words yet, an unintelligible yell reverberating through the helmet communication system.

"I'm all right," I gasped, dismayed by the sound of my own voice, laced with pain. I tried to stand and bit back a moan, wobbling on one foot, trying to keep weight off of my right foot. My ribcage smarted from where I'd plowed into Thaal, and I was beginning to realize that a neural network link might have required more safeguards than I had anticipated.

"So…" Arno said weakly a moment later, "I guess that's all the field testing we'll have for today?"

"I guess," I repeated breathlessly. "Let's head back."

* * *

A/N: So, Brainy is not actually invincible! He can make mistakes! (not that we were under any false impression that he was incapable of making mistakes, but...) Honestly guys, I loved this. Something about the drama of Brainy and Arno and Thaal all flipping out... this is what I imagine a lot of scientific testing is like when you don't have the resources to test it properly. And Brainy is just arrogant enough to believe that he would always get it right the first time... Anyway, what does this mean for Legion auditions? And how is Brainy going to install safeguards to prevent friendly fire? And... yeah, well, if I keep asking questions I might start giving too much away, so let's leave it at that. Shout outs to those who happened to review this week, since I'd also finished the chapter this week. Hooray! Thanks so much for the reviews, I really love getting them and I read them all and get warm fuzzy feelings from them. And warm fuzzy feelings are good.


	15. Entry 15

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 15-**

I do not know if I can follow through with this. The very idea of facing my former friends terrifies me. I know that it will not technically be I that faces them, but I am thoroughly frightened of what I may learn from this endeavor.

But I should explain. I have revised the neurological link by programming safeguards into the thought-pattern control used in my AMESS (Adaptive Myofybril Enhancing Skintight Suit). I have verified this by attempting friendly fire (upon someone wearing the force-field belt) and failing to kill my teammate (in this case, Arno). It is the only failure upon which I pride myself.

But there are many other failures that seem to haunt me daily, and these are the failures that lead me to critically evaluate myself and my competence in such an important position as 'hero'. I am not a hero. I am a villain. Try as I might, I cannot seem to change this self-perception. I do not know if I would be accepted and forgiven by the other legionnaires.

How can I expect them to accept and forgive me when I can neither accept nor forgive myself? Yet, if I were faced with irrefutable evidence I might be swayed to set aside my self-loathing long enough to attempt to rejoin my former friends and compatriots in the Legion of Super-Heroes.

It is this "irrefutable evidence" that Thaal will seek at my behest. Put simply, this is what I have told him to do:

a) Attend legion auditions in my stead.

b) Somehow gain knowledge of my current standing among my former fellow legionnaires. Am I despised? Missed? Respected? Feared?

c) Possibly be admitted to the Legion of Superheroes. This is unlikely, as he doesn't know martial arts or possess even level 10 intellect. (though technically not many do; I'm simply accustomed to that standard, being from Colu)

It is well known that Saturn Girl always mentally scans the people who attend Legion Auditions. Were I to attend, there is no way I would not be recognized. Also, considering the breakdown I had after facing a mere four members, it is hardly a good idea to put me in an enclosed room with a decent number of them.

Thaal will be attending Legion Auditions under an assumed identity that I have provided him. Saturn Girl does not probe attendees for specifics. She will sense he is hiding something, but that he has good intentions and does not mean the Legion any harm. She will sense his excitement and nervousness. All of these are normal to note in a Legion applicant.

He will determine for me whether or not rejoining the Legion is a viable option. After that, it will be up to me to determine how best to reconnect and put forward my application. Thaal will be attending Legion trials under the pseudonym Syll Xinn, from the Rim World human colony Sklarr. His hero name will be 'Gadget'.

I will be observing and give him instructions through a hidden microphone. He will wear the uniform I have created for myself and _will not break anything or misuse any of my equipment_ under threat of death or dismemberment.

I do not know if I am anxious due to hopeful anticipation or sheer dread, but I cannot bring myself to sleep tonight.

"Gadget" auditions tomorrow.

The morning cannot come soon enough.

* * *

A/N: First of all, I am SO SORRY for not updating. I feel like this is a recurring theme with me. The story will be finished one day, I'm just really bad at consistency. :(

On another note, I've been trawling comic databases for planets in the UP that do not have an associated legionnaire (which for most means they have no page on the DC wikia), in order to make use of actual planets in the UP but tailor them to my purposes. So yes, Sklarr is a planet in the UP. I don't know what it's like or where it's located, so I'm just faking it. Anyway. Just thought you should know I spent a good twenty minutes trawling through planets to find a suitable one. (there are a lot of legionnaires from a lot of planets where their abilities are innate and I couldn't have that. I considered Winath, but it's known for twins and Thaal has no twin so...)

also. I do have more chapters. I should be updating a bit sooner this time. (famous last words...)


	16. Entry 16

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 16-**

It has been a long and grueling day, fraught with confusion and mental anguish. It began innocently enough, but quickly descended into a hell of madness and confusion, pain and disbelief. My mind is still reeling from revelations that I had not forseen. I do not know what to think. I wish I did not have to think. There is so much I do not understand right now.

But I should start at the beginning.

The day began with Arno and I dragging Thaal out of bed and coaching him tirelessly on what to say and do as he has a tendency to not listen when you tell him something the first time. Or the second time. Or third time.

Once that was through, Arno and I helped him put on the costume, and then promptly had him take half of it off again and shove it in a bag because it was too conspicuous. We decided he could put it on once he was waiting to audition, but wearing it to auditions would probably not go over too well.

I gave Arno directions (he was going to help Thaal get there as Thaal has absolutely no sense of direction), and the two of them departed, with myself listening in over the comlink and watching a live video feed from an eye-cam that Thaal was wearing.I sat on my hotel bed, knees tucked up to my chest, chin resting atop them.

Arno carried Thaal's bag for him out of courtesy. Thaal complained about the skintight aspect of AMESS. He also made cracks about it being "a mess". I dismissed his concerns as invalid, as acronyms don't require a meaning beyond the words contained in its lengthy form. Arno thought the acronym should be pronounced "Amos", and promptly conscribed anthropomorphic qualities to my invention. I listened along, ignoring Thaal and reminding Arno that the suit was not alive, and therefore could not be insulted by anything Thaal might call it.

Once Thaal arrived, Arno departed as Thaal marveled at the masses who had gathered from all across the United Planets to Audition. He also marveled at how much "junk" he had to wear for the suit to be fully functional. He also claimed it chafed. I knew full well from a week of field testing that it did no such thing. I believe he was simply trying to bother me. Or perhaps he is claustrophobic and did not appreciate wearing a helmet for extended periods of time.

Eventually, Thaal began conversations with the people waiting nearby. He introduced himself to Katal-Jin, an Empath and dream-walker from the planet Taltaro. Katal-Jin seemed pleasant. His abilities allowed him to sense the motivations of others and use that knowledge to find them in their dreams. Unlike Saturn Girl, he couldn't read minds. But unlike Saturn Girl, he claimed to be able to walk through people's dreams. He did not leave any traces, but he claimed he could influence the thoughts and ideas of people through subtle hints in their dreams.

Thaal commented that he didn't see how that power would help unless you knew about a crime before it happened, which Katal-Jin conceded.

"But I can also dream-walk when a person is awake. Dreams are never truly gone; they are dormant."

"So you're _sure_ it's not the same as telepathy?" Thaal prompted.

"Titanians don't seem to think it is," Katal-Jin said, shrugging. "I consider them the experts."

Thaal shrugged. "Well, good luck to you."

Katal-Jin grinned. "Thanks. So what about you?"

"Me?" Thaal asked.

"What's your power?"

Thaal sighed. "The suit. Duh."

Katal-Jin frowned. "I don't understand."

"It's a mess."

Katal-Jin appeared confused as he pondered this. "Why is it a mess?"

"No, that's an acronym. It stands for…"

I could imagine the contorted face of Thaal as he attempted to remember. I decided to do him a favor and prompted, "Adaptive…"

"Adaptive Mile-fible Enhancing Systematic System," Thaal told him. I resisted the urge to hit my head on something hard. "Basically it makes my muscles strong without snapping my bones. Oh and also I have a force-field belt thingy. And a jetpack."

Katal-Jin leaned forward, moving back behind Thaal. "I don't see a jetpack," he said, voice muffled due to the lack of proximity with the microphone and camera.

"It's back there," Thaal said, reaching back and tapping the small device. "This."

Katal-Jin came back around front, his face shocked. "How? It's so tiny!"

"Powered by bio-energy," Thaal said.

At least he'd gotten that bit right. The two continued to talk for some time, until Katal-Jin's name was called by Matter-Eater Lad. Thaal wished him luck, saying that he fully expected to see "Dream Walker" in the Legion someday.

Katal-Jin thanked him as he jogged towards the doors.

Thaal sighed, shuffling around for about five minutes. "I'm sick of waiting. How long does this whole Audition thing take?"

"All day," I told him. "Stop whining."

"But I'm hungry!" Thaal moaned.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You will not die of starvation in the next few hours. Be patient."

"Being patient is for whimps," Thaal muttered.

I rolled my eyes at that. "Apparently espionage would be categorized as a 'whimpy' pastime by you, then?"

"Huh?" Thaal said, sounding confused. "I never said that."

"Yes you did, if you take your comment to its logical conclusion, you'll see that-" I cut myself off, hearing the name "Syll Xinn" called.

"You see? I'm right!" Thaal crowed.

"That was your _name_ they just called, idiot," I hissed. "Get in there before they think something's up!"

Thaal practically tripped over himself (and several unfortunate souls between him and the entrance) getting to the entrance. "I'm Syll Xinn," he told Chameleon Boy.

Chameleon Boy's eyes twinkled. "Nice suit," he said appreciatively, poking one of the lasers.

"I know, right?" Thaal said boastfully, watching Cham prod the laser a bit more forcefully. "It's my baby."

I strangled the air. What part of touching the "business end" of a weapon seemed like a good idea to that idiotic Durlan? Friend though he may have been, I could have smacked him. "Thaal, don't let Chameleon Boy touch the laser!" I snapped.

"Uh, that's a laser," Thaal told him. "Careful."

Cham yanked his hand back, chuckling sheepishly. "Oh… sorry 'bout that," he apologized.

"It's okay, just wouldn't want you to get hurt. It'd be a pretty terrible first impression," Thaal joked.

"Well, come on in," Cham said, leading the way.

As Thaal walked into the arena, my chest tightened.

My chest is still tight now, though currently, it is less my chest and more my stomach that seems to be a problem. I have not yet eaten today, and despite feeling ill, Thaal has just arrived with a variety of foods and is shouting for me to show myself. I do not wish to be accused of journaling should he discover me. I will return to this at a later time… after I have acquired sustenance.

I do not wish to eat. But I will, because I must. I do not think I will enjoy it.

* * *

A/N: Oh gosh I can't wait. I'm too excited about these chapters to wait. not sure if you readers will love me or hate me for this, but I'm posting a second time in the SAME DAY. ... ...yeah. Can I hear you say "inconsistent"?

...well it's true. Anyway. Thanks for reading! shout-out to The Violet Rose and Stormgirl415 for reviewing on the last chapter before I managed to break resolve and post this one too! hope you get a chance to see this one quickly also!

And to all my readers, thanks for sticking with me. I'm super excited about the next few chapters. Stay tuned!


	17. Entry 17

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 17-**

Now that I have ingested food, I feel much more inclined to continue my recalling of the day's events.

As Thaal walked into the Legion Auditions chamber, I felt my chest tighten. The familiar room seemed to loom over me despite the fact that it was simply a small video feed lying at my feet on the bed. In that moment, I felt intensely aware of my heartbeat, a thing that I had become quite accustomed to now foreign to me as it pounded loudly, my blood creating whooshing sounds in my ears. My breath picked up and grew shallow.

Thaal must have heard something different, because he spoke softly. "It's okay Brainy," he murmured, his face and voice hidden from the Legionnaires by the faceplate of his helmet. "Breathe."

I took a shuddering breath.

Thaal turned to face the legionnaires. Cosmic boy was poking at a padd. His face was lined with tension. He never did enjoy sitting still all day. Neither did Lightning Lad, who was fidgeting in his chair and 'subtly' sending little volts of electricity at Saturn Girl, whose hair was looking extremely frizzy. Imra, to her credit, allowed Lightning Lad to be immature and was ignoring his actions in favor of being 'a grounded member of the team' in front of those who were auditioning. (I find myself amused by my choice of words. Lightning lad, Saturn Girl 'grounded', electricity… but I digress.)

Cham slipped into his seat beside Bouncing Boy, and Matter-Eater lad yawned, munching on something indiscernible. There was one additional seat, currently empty.

Cosmic Boy sighed, glancing at the empty seat and then the door, which happened to slide open at that moment, allowing a young man to enter, carrying a large tray of food. He had green skin that gleamed with an almost metallic sheen. His eyes glowed with a throbbing magenta. His hair was short-cropped and blonde. He bore three white circles on his forehead.

He was me.

"Whoa," Thaal whispered, "trippy."

"I-I-I don't understand," I found myself scrambling for words. "This isn't—that's not—how? _Why_? _Who?_"

"Well, there's some pretty solid evidence that you would be accepted back into the Legion," Thaal muttered.

"Who is that?"

"Well duh, that's Brainiac 5," Thaal said. "Should I boo him?"

"I don't know," I responded absently, staring. The 'Brainiac 5' I saw before me on the small screen was a combination of my old robotic form and my new biological body. It had the sleekness and soft look of my biological body, but the eyes, the face… clearly robotic in nature, though much more integrated into a biological-like form.

Whoever had chosen to impersonate me was doing a good job. And since the average Coluan has a level ten intellect, most would likely be unable to tell the difference in ability. Though I wondered about Shrinking Violet. One would think at least she would be able to note the difference between a level 10 and level 12 intellect.

"All right, sil shin," Cosmic boy said, pronouncing Thaal's name without the proper inflections, "What's your power?"

Thaal coughed, activated the helmet speakers and said, "Um. Inventions?"

The whole room turned to look at the impostor, who leaned forward slightly, the hint of a smirk on his face. "Oh?" he prompted.

I felt my face flush. He had my mannerisms – The disdain. The superiority complex. He was me. I did not understand.

Thaal fidgeted under the harsh stare of 'Brainiac 5'. "Um yeah," he said. "This is-"

"STOP!" I shouted suddenly. "Thaal, you can't demonstrate the suit. It's too good. They'll know it's mine."

Thaal frowned, deactivating the speaker system. "What do you mean? Why didn't you think of that before?"

"I didn't expect to see _myself_ on the selection committee. Whoever he is, he'll recognize my handiwork. Just give me a minute, I'm going to make the suit less operational. The jetpack will only last for ten minutes. When you fall the suit should absorb the impact."

Thaal fidgeted. "Brainy, why are you sabotaging your equipment? _HOW_ are you sabotaging it?"

"Remote access," I explained, deactivating the force-field belt, a dead giveaway. "You have no force fields. React accordingly. Also, the lasers are of a lower frequency and less effective. And your gears may grind awkwardly. Fear not, you will not be damaged should they fail."

"_Brainy!_" Thaal hissed. "If you kill me I _will_ kill you back!"

"Sil Shin," Cosmic Boy called, glaring at the impostor, "What do you call yourself?"

Thaal reactivated the external speaking system. "Gadget."

The impostor leaned back and rolled his eyes slightly.

"So that's your power? Inventing?" Cosmic Boy prompted.

"We already have one of those, genius," Lightning Lad snapped at Thaal, appearing irritated.

"Obviously he's not a genius," the impostor smirked. "Or he would know that."

Thaal shuffled awkwardly. "Look, should I just go?"

"No no, please demonstrate," Imra said, leaning forward. "What does it do?"

Thaal fired the jetpack, hovering at about ten feet. He fired lasers at the floor, placed his hands on his hips, and cocked his head. "Well?"

Cosmic boy glanced at the other Brainiac 5. "Well, we have flight rings, so the jetpack is nice but pretty unnecessary. And uh… lasers? Those are pretty basic. Sorry."

Thaal let his shoulders slump. "Oh. Okay."

Brainiac Fake rolled his glowing eyes. "Amateur."

I wanted to punch him. With my own fist. Despite the fact that it would likely hurt very badly as he was made of metal and I soft human flesh.

Thaal made a quick exit.

I was thoroughly confused by this impostor. Did Colu see it fit to substitute myself in the Legion in order to save face? Was it some sort of reparation? Did my teammates know he was another, or did they actually think he was me? And if they actually believed his deception, how had he managed to fool them, and how long had he been here?

I have since trawled the news nets and discovered that Brainiac 5 secretly returned to the Legion a mere 3 months before to my return. His return was only made public three weeks prior, while Thaal, Arno, and I were in transit to New Metropolis.

Someone has been impersonating me for 3 months. I need to know who. And why. After considering my options for some time, I have decided that there is only one option for me.

I will break in to Legion HQ. I know COMPUTO better than anyone else. I will be able to silence the alarms, sneak in, use the system to analyze the individual who has been impersonating me, and from that information determine who is impersonating me and why.

I am frightened. I do not know why this is happening.

I just want to go home.

But I cannot go home until I know who has taken my place.

I want to go home.

I want my friends.

I don't want to be afraid.

But I am.

* * *

A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING THAT, WERE YOU? AHAHAHAHA, NOW LET THE THEORIES RUN WILD! AHAHAHAHA! ...yes. As you can see, I have had far too much fun with this plot twist. Honestly, this whole deal wasn't even planned until the exact moment I wrote Thaal walking into the room and then all of a sudden I was like "This is too simple. We need an IMPOSTOR". And so now here we are, with an impostor. And I am just cackling evilly in my Authorly corner, making notes and basically dying of evil machinations that make me laugh with dastardly guffaws. Anyway. Stay tuned, I'm thrilled with this development (in the sense that it will simply make life that much more painful and difficult for our dear friend brainy), and I hope you all don't decide to kill me for once again leaving you hanging with a stunning development. :D


	18. Entry 18

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_mindlink initiated-_

**Entry 18-**

I am trying something new. Despite the fact that my thought-tracks run more simultaneously and are less easily specialized for individual tasks than they have been in the past, I have devised a way to make note of my circumstances by use of a bio-tech thought-control-type implant chip that is centered at the base of my neck programmed with the sensitivity to read specific signals unique to a one thought-track.

I have labeled this thought track my 'journal' track, mostly as a mockery to Thaal, but also because it is a simple word to use. Plus the outrage at the idea _**I am hungry.**_ of this thought track being called a journal allows my mind to easily ostracize and isolate this thought-track from the other eleven.

This is a test. If it works, then my thought-track is officially sequestered for mental analysis and 'journaling' processes. It should _**sugar. I want something sweet.**_ be useful during my break-in tonight. I will be journaling in real-time. It should be useful to allow myself to better consider what is going on around me and also set aside a real-time reaction database for future analysis once I have _**I am hungry. Something sweet would be good. **_found the time to analyze my thought-tracks.

In the meantime, I believe I will go get something to eat. I have not yet slept and it has been eight hours since my last meal. I do not believe the human body is meant to go long without sleep. Or sustenance. It is unfortunate, as I used to be able to go for months without sleep. Sleep is emptiness. C_**oldblackdarknesssearing**_ And dreams. _**DARKheatpainangerpainwhyhurt colddark**_ I hate dreams. _**darkDARKpaincoldblackevilsto pnoDARK**_

~end~

-_keypad initiated-_

_**addendum**_

I am unsure what to make of the mindlink documentation. It appears that the thought track is not as capable of holding out the influences of other thought-tracks as I believed.

Or perhaps my subconscious bleeds through and is picked up by the mindlink. Either way, I believe I have remedied the problem and my mindlink posts should be found effective for analysis at this point unto the forseeable future.

Now I must strategize how I am to invade Legion HQ and discover the identity of my impostor.

* * *

A/N: ahahahaha! now we can get realtime updates from brainy's mind and subconscious! why didn't he think of this before? Then Thaal wouldn't have had the opportunity to ceaselessly badger him about keeping a journal! Anyway. I had a lot of fun with this. Pluuuuus, did anyone else notice the fact that the documentation input changed from "keypad initiated" to "mindlink initiated"? haha, go back and check. I thought it was pretty cool personally... but then again I am kind of a nerd so maybe I'm the only one who found it fun.

Stay tuned, more awesome things to come! And as always, thanks for reading!


	19. Entry 19

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_mindlink initiated-_

**Entry 19-**

Why am I doing this? Why am I sprocking doing this? Grife I could have been doing anything else, something _legal_ tonight so why am I going through with this? There must be better ways to determine the identity of a sprocking impostor. This whole idea is stupid.

I need to get in before I lose my nerve.

First the security protocols.

1101010101001111010101010111 00101001011100101… 1101010101001010101001010100 10101… 0100101010101001010100101010 1001010100101001… 1100101010111110101010100011 0101011… 1110001010101010101001010100 1010… 1010100101001010100101010010 101001010101001010… 1001010011010101001010001011 0101010010101001011… 1010010100101010100001010010 1…

Well that went better than expected. It appears I still have a good handle on basic binary. It did take a bit of my concentration to merge the mindlink with COMPUTO for the security override. I should have invented this sooner, it's quite useful to be able to speak to computers again.

I'm inside. Sprocksprocksprock it's all just like I remember and it _hurts_. I can't be here. I need to leave

NO

NO, SPROCK YOU QUERL YOU WILL GET IN THERE AND YOU WILL DETERMINE THE IDENTITY OF THE SPROCKING IMPOSTOR AND YOU WILL

Oh grife, security cams.

101010101001010101…

COMPUTO. My metaphorical knight in shining metallic defensive apparel. There will be no evidence of my entry.

These walls are smoother than I remember. Or perhaps it's because I've never touched them with such poignant awareness of my human senses. The floor has ridges and rivets, but fortunately it is silent to move across. I am wearing the AMESS, but with an additional silencing apparatus added to keep the plastisoid materials from making noise if they impact the walls or floor. Most ingenious, if I do say so myself. Which I do.

Why thank you, Querl, I appreciate the compliment.

Oh no, thank _you_ Querl, you are the one who expressed the need for such silencing materials.

Querl, you are positively too kind to a mere inventor like myself.

Oh no, do not sell yourself short, marvelous Querl. It is not as though level 12 intellect presents itself on a regular basis.

You really are too kind, Querl.

…

…twelve simultaneously-processing thought tracks and I choose to talk to myself. Perhaps when I have returned to the Legion I should discuss my state of mind with Saturn Girl.

I need to find the lab. I simply hope the impostor isn't holed up in the one I need. Otherwise this could be a long night. The hallways are eerily silent at night. I never realized how quiet it can get here. I hope Saturn Girl is not alerted to my presence. She knows me. She knows I mean no harm. Though admittedly I may choose to strike my impostor because he has caused me a serious amount of mental anguish.

All right Querl, this is it. The lab. Don't freak out. The impostor has probably moved things around and has probably reworked the lab…

Oh.

Oh.

It hasn't changed.

Well, the countertops have different experiments on them. But it's organized in the exact same way I left it. Components left scattered exactly how I would scatter them. Materials being analyzed even as I work in another lab. COMPUTO running scans on various ways to improve designs that I have supplied.

This is all too much. How long has the impostor studied me to understand exactly how I would run a laboratory? It looks as though I never left!

Oh, I did miss having a good laboratory. Hotel rooms and apartments are no substitute.

Now is not the time, Querl. Get to COMPUTO. Find information on the impostor.

All right COMPUTO, let's set your scanners to something else. What is the genetic structure of the current Brainiac 5 residing in these walls? Oh good, it's on file.

…

This can't be. That allele. Those sequences. No. NO.

NO NO NONONONONO

SPROCK NO

_**darknesspainsadnessdespairdo omDARKevilfearstopno**_

SPROCKING GRIFE I CAN'T

_**angerstopDARKevildarknesspan icdestroyterrorDARK**_

THIS ISN'T POSSIBLE

_**dangerdarkevilDARKsadnesspai nangerhurt**_

NO

_**darkDARKdarkdarkDARKDARKNESS DARKEND10DARK0010STOP1010100 0NO**_

NO

_**DARK100101DARK101010101DARK1 000101010DARK110101010100101 0101010101001010101000010101 0010111101010101010100101**_

~end~

* * *

A/N:Ahahahaha I love the mindlink to death. Brainy has a dirtier mouth when he doesn't get the chance to filter it through his hand-written journal. even though he has a perfect memory (eidetic only with a level twelve intellect on top of that), he tends to self-edit. The mindlink is great because you really get to hear exactly what he's thinking in the moment. Gosh I loved it when he talked to himself, I do that all the time and I just... it seemed so like him. Also. It's great that he refers to himself in the third person as Querl and not Brainy because I seriously LOVE the name Querl and I'm so happy that I get to use it because I like it. The strings of binary are filled with ellipses because obviously strings of binary are long and the mindlink kindly truncated them for our sake. so there you have it. I really loved this chapter.

A/N x2: Hey yo peoples who are still bothering to read this! So today's chapter is a vague shout-out to AtramentousAile, who has been bombarding me with unnecessary flattery and basically making me feel like a literary genius, so I've been super motivated to write. So motivated that I felt okay about posting this chapter a little early. So yeah. Some readers are really too nice. Every review makes me want to sing and dance (fortunately there's no one around to watch or they'd likely go blind), so I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has been so faithful to review even when this story has taken so long. I appreciate the time you take to comment and it really means a lot to me! :D

Enjoy, and sorry for the cliff hanger. ;)


	20. Entry 20

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_mindlink initiated-_

**Entry 20-**

I need to breathe. Currently my breath is coming in and out effectively, but I feel as though perhaps none of that air is getting to my bloodstream. I feel like no matter how hard I breathe, the air isn't getting where it needs to be. I believe I may be experiencing hyperventilation, likely due to a massive release of epinephrine and other hormones. All I know is that I am feeling lightheaded, my fingers and toes are tingling. My hands are slick with sweat. I can't seem to move.

This is so much worse than anything I've ever felt before. It's like my entire life has risen up to point accusingly at me, reminding me of my failures. I cannot protect my friends. I cannot preserve my mind. I don't even know if this is real or if I've somehow confused myself.

The structure of the impostor's DNA… is my own. Or nearer to my own than any other DNA I've ever seen before. I don't fully understand what it means, but the structure of this DNA indicates that the impostor is directly related to me… a _son_, perhaps?

Though in many ways, the code is too similar even for that. Even as I mentally cross-reference the code, I find myself once again coming to the same conclusion. I have been sitting here for upwards of twenty minutes, re-working, re-evaluating, trying to find some other meaning for this genetic code. I can find none.

And I suppose that is why I am panicking.

I believe…

I believe…

I cannot even bring myself to think it. But it must be true; I can think of no other explanation.

The impostor. This impostor. Is me.

Or rather, a part of me. This impostor is a resurrected shell of myself, once again being manipulated by my ancestor, Brainiac.

Even thinking it here, I feel my breath catch in my throat as though it's suddenly been yanked closed. My heart is leaping around in my chest, and I want to escape but I can't, I _can't_, because I thought I'd finally escaped the memories and regrets of that time, only to learn that the very thing I thought was finally gone had never left, had not died, but had merely…

…evolved.

I do not understand why Brainiac would feel motivated to join the Legion or impersonate me. I only know that whatever plans he holds for them, they are not good.

I also realize that he would not look fondly upon my return. He probably has safeguards to detect whether or not COMPUTO has been tampered with. I am panicking, unsure of what to do, how to alter the terrible thing that seems to have occurred. I am terrified and am suppressing that fear in order to think logically, but I find that my problem-solving mind has been made useless by senseless worrying and stress. I cannot seem to strike a balance between fear and function.

And so I continue sitting here at COMPUTO's access port in Brainiac's lab, panicking. I can only hope that my sheer panic has not awakened Saturn Girl, though I suspect it probably has.

I do not know what I am going to do. I do not know if there is anything I can do. I think perhaps it would be best if I sever the mindlink before I lose control again.

~end~

* * *

A/N: Ahahahahahaha yesss I love torturing the poor guy. CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC! THE PLOT TWIST HAS BEEN REVEALED! This is really too much fun... :)

anywho I've still got a few chappies tucked up my sleeves, hopefully most people were shocked and stunned by this revelation, and are excited to see where the story goes from here. Thanks for reading!


	21. Entry 21

****TRIGGER WARNING****

_Okay guys I literally have no idea if this would be triggering or not but if you are triggered by suicidal/near death experiences of your own causing, please be forewarned that this chapter contains self-harm._

* * *

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_mindlink initiated-_

**Entry 21-**

This day could not have gone worse. Sprocking grife I am still coming to terms with everything that I have learned so far and if it were up to me I would just curl up in a corner and cover myself with a large fluffy blanket in an attempt to hide from these painful revelations and the world at large.

I have activated the mindlink because the doors to the lab just slid shut and the intruder alarm is currently blaring. I expect…visitors…soon. I do not know who exactly activated the alarm, or why, but I expect I will soon be facing my ancestor and nemesis, Brainiac. I have made efforts to calm myself, mostly through the (likely not-recommended) method of drugging myself with a powerful sedative. I would have used something more mild, but I was… panicking. Not in my right mind. I am likely still not in my right mind, but at least I only have about half of my thought tracks currently running in dizzy panicked circles, rather than all of them. I feel a profound sense of calm that can only be the result of blissful unawareness of how truly horrible my situation is and although I can clearly contemplate in this thought-track how badly I have sprocked up, I cannot bring myself to care.

Sprock. The door is opening.

It is not Brainiac. Thank whatever omniscient being is out there: Valor or whoever might be listening. Rokk and Imra stand in the doorway, confused, angry, shocked, hair askew, not wearing shoes. Cosmic Boy's left eye is half-closed. Saturn Girl is in her nightclothes. Rokk is only wearing boxers, though I suppose those could also be considered nightclothes, though I hesitate to label them as clothes… I would instead consider them underclothes, though technically the term still includes the word clothes.

I am actually quite impressed at how quickly I can think. The span of three seconds has passed since the door opened and I have already taken in a decent amount of information before they can so much as speak. They are probably surprised to see…

Wait. I am still wearing my helmet. I knew I forgot something. Sedatives tend to make me forgetful.

I should take off the helmet. I'll just reach up and unbuckle the

"Stop!"

They both shout at once. What? I'm not planning on shooting them, for heavens' sake. I could do that with a mere thought. I don't need to _move_ for them to both be dead, lying on the ground, bleeding out slowly. Or just dead with a quick headshot.

I believe I am a very morbid person when I do not have any sort of inhibitions in place. I cannot seem to grasp what is okay and not okay for myself at this point because my entire world is collapsing about me. I put my arms down.

Rokk and Imra relax, if ever so slightly.

"Gadget?" Imra says softly, "why are you here?"

Stupid auditions are still complicating my life in so many ways why was I such a sprocking idiot I never should have left in the first place and I find it somewhat fascinating that I can think such thoughts in a very calm manner I suppose once I reread this later I will discover that all of this is quite horrifying and will decide to never again use a sedative on myself in order to prevent panic attacks. Imra asked me a question and I should answer her.

"I'm not here to burglarize, pilfer, or otherwise acquire materials, ideas, or inventions that do not belong to me," I begin, surprised at how lucid and rational I sound on a drug that would send most people spiraling into idiocy. A testament to the power of exponential intellect levels. My mind is on such a higher plane that it cannot be touched by treatments designed for lesser intellects. "I am also not here to cause trouble."

Rokk and Imra do not appear convinced by my assertions. I still struggle to determine the right course of action. I had a plan. I forget what I was going to say. Perhaps I should not have drugged myself. I know that one of the thought tracks is holding the words I was going to say but it is not here right now only some of them are still thinking and they are thinking treacherous thoughts.

Also my respiration level is very low and that is probably not a good sign but I am much too drugged to consider that at this point.

"I am sorry to have caused you undue concern," I continue, "I mean no harm." I don't. I never have. It's only through my own idiocy and inaction that people suffer. It is all my fault always, but not because I _mean_ to hurt people. People around me, people I care about, they simply end up hurting. In pain. Because of me. Not because I wanted them to be hurt.

Imra and Rokk are still exchanging glances. I suppose Imra is probably talking to Rokk. In her mind. I wonder if she has separate thought tracks or a thought track specifically for mind talking. Perhaps it is a Titanian adaptation. Fascinating. I will consider this at a later time. I have probably already considered this and the thought track that once thought about it is non-responsive at the moment.

Imra takes a gentle step forward. "Are you all right?"

I do not know what she means. Of course I am fine. I still have this thought track and two others functioning at limited capacity. "Ahm faaaahn," I say. But this is not right. My tongue feels thick inside my mouth, like somehow it has become a foreign object. The muscles in my face feel numb. This is perhaps not a side effect I had been expecting from the sedative.

"Rokk, we need to get him to sickbay _right now_!" Imra says, sounding panicked.

Ha.

Ha.

I should likely be concerned by this development but I only have two functioning thought tracks and one is journaling while the other is growing… tired.

Very tired.

Somehow…

Words…

Oh grife bile, burning my throat. I should…

helmet off…

Imra and Rokk are helping me stand. I cannot for the life of me

…

What is air?

How do feet move?

Sometimes I wonder how people think if they are not aware of their thought tracks. Is it harder or easier?

What if food was sentient? …Would it be sad… if you did not like it?

Do… foods think… favoritism is wrong? Is pizza insulted…when…you…call…pancakes… your favorite?

WHAT IF THE SKY CHANGED COLOR BASED ON ITS MOOD AND NOT LIGHT REFRACTION.

WHY DOES IT EXIST WHEN IT IS JUST A PRONOUN AND HAS NO REAL PLACE IN THIS WORLD EXCEPT A PLACE HOLDER HA WHAT AM I EVEN THINKING

WHAT IF AIR HAD FEELINGS

WOULD IT

WOULD IT

I DON'T EVEN

WHAT AM I THINKING

RIGHT NOW

WHAT

SPROCK MY ENTIRE FACE IS NUMB

OR MAYBE I

JUST DON'T KNOW

WHICH PART OF MY BODY IS MY FACE

WHAT IF MY FACE

WAS ACTUALLY

MY BUTT

HAHAHA

MY BUTT

I CANNOT BELIVE

I JUST USED THE WORD BUTT IN MY THOUGHTS

I DID IT AGAIN

HAHA BUTT

BUTTS

WHY DO HUMANS HAVE

A FASCINATION WITH

SUCH CRUDE

ROUND

ANATOMICAL

…THINGS?

SPROCK MY LUNGS

I THINK

I FORGOT

TO BREATHE

HAHA THAT IS FUNNY

SPROCK

I

MIGHT

HAVE

OV

OVER

AHAHAHAHA

I COULD HAVE

KILLED MYSELF

WOULDN'T THAT JUST

BE PERFECT

IT

WOULD

ALL

BE

GONE

AND

I

WOULDN'T

FEEL

ANY

THING

ANY

MORE

AND

IT…

WOULD…

BE…

…

…GLORIOUS…

…

…

…

~end~

* * *

A/N: All of these hazy capslock musings are inspired by tumblr nightbloggers. If anyone is interested in following me on tumblr/has a blog I might be interested, feel free to review about that or PM me or whatever. :) Hey look! It's the legion! Finally! But NOW WHAT. AND WHY DO I ENJOY TORMENTING QUERL SO MUCH?

Anywho stay tuned, more to come eventually.


	22. Entry 22

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_mindlink initiated-_

**Entry 22-**

I wake up to see four people staring intently at me. I am hooked up to medical equipment. My heart rate, which used to be at a low resting rate, has since leaped much higher. I believe I should document the following minutes.

Rokk, Imra, Garth, and Brainiac are all staring at me. None of them are speaking.

I do not know what to say. I realize, thinking back, that I must have overdosed on a powerful sedative while panicking and attempting to remedy my panic with drugs. Unfortunately in my panicked state I administered enough drugs to calm me as a Coluan, a physiology which would have been much better equipped to handle the sedative. I could have died.

I should probably be frightened by how little I care, but I cannot bring myself to dwell on such a thing at this point. Garth shifts uncomfortably and glances at Imra. Apparently she has decided she will be the first to speak.

As anticipated, Imra moves closer to the bed. "Who are you?" she asks me.

I have all thought tracks functioning, but my near-death experience and sudden extreme mental exhaustion means that the presence of Brainiac has not reduced me to a quivering mass of panic, unlike the events of several hours previous. Additionally, it appears that my thought tracks had been busy mulling over what Brainiac must have said to be accepted into the legion. I can now remember the cover story I invented.

Obviously Brainiac lied in order to be here. I still do not know how he managed to trick Saturn girl. I can only hope that I will be able to do the same.

Imra is watching me closely. She truly believes that the impostor is not Brainiac, but me. She will be suspicious. More suspicious than she was when Brainiac came.

I begin to weave my lie as she watches me closely. "I am Querl Dox," I begin.

I am cut off by an obnoxious scoff from Garth, who apparently has nothing better to do than make disbelieving noises. Imra is nodding slowly, I do not see how any of them could dispute this, I have green skin and three white circles on my forehead, not a common sight to see among any biological organisms I have previously encountered. I am obviously Querl Dox.

"I am a clone," I continue. This is where lying becomes tricky to me. I have to believe I am telling the truth, and in a way, I am. My mother was artificially inseminated. In some ways, I may be more related to Vril Dox than my mother. Coluan breeding is a complicated affair, made infinitely more complicated by the Dox family line. I do not find myself in a state of mind where mulling over the details of Coluan reproduction would be enlightening or helpful. To put it succinctly, Vril Dox (Brainiac 2) was a clone of Vril Dox (the selfsame Brainiac who is currently impersonating me). Lyrl Dox, on the other hand, was not a clone. He was considered a mistake by the Coluan high council. (Then again, so far as I am aware, every Dox has been considered a mistake by the Coluan high council. Albeit very intelligent, profitable, and useful mistakes.) The DNA of my mother was a genetically altered version of Vril Dox II's DNA and that of an aristocratic Coluan family that had recently fallen into disfavor. I myself was a veritable mishmash of genetics, with most of my genetic structure relying on the genetic blueprints of Vril Dox II (who as you may remember was a clone of the original Vril Dox.) I was constructed and implanted within my mother in a frankly futile attempt by the Coluan high council to pacify Colu's leading scientist, Kajz Dox, and keep her on-planet. The attempt failed miserably. Rather than remaining on-planet, she recognized my birth as a chance to finally escape their clutches. My only memory of her consists of cool eyes gazing down at me and a face scrunching in frustration as she pushed me into the arms of the nearest orderly and departed. I have not seen her since.

But this is not what I was intending to discuss at all. Basically it all boils down to the idea that I am a modified clone of Vril Dox, and therefore it is not a complete lie to tell Imra that I am a clone of myself. I am a clone. Just not technically a clone of myself, but more a halfway-clone of Vril Dox. I find myself shuddering involuntarily. Just when I was hoping to rid myself of the memory of my ancestor… I had been trying so hard to escape my past, escape what was practically encoded within me from day one, and even having overcome my past I still find myself facing down my ancestor, unable to escape his influence over my life.

My eyes have found Brainiac. I have likely been staring, though only for about five seconds, so I believe this silence has yet to become "awkward". His eyes are cold, robotic. I wonder how anyone could have truly considered me a close friend when my eyes were so closed, mechanical… glowing. Burning. Inhuman. What had I been saying? I had just told Imra I was a clone. I have gazed at Brainiac with enough time for it to become sufficiently obvious why I am distressed. I turn back to Imra.

"I…I realize this now." The unspoken half of this sentence implies that I did not realize it before. Being observant, Imra should be able to pick up on my subtle hint.

Imra frowns. "What do you mean, now?" she asks me.

Brilliant. I believe there are times that I do not give my friends the credit they deserve for their discretion and observation. Imra in particular always seems to pick up on what is truly being said rather than taking words literally.

"I did not know I was…" my chest tightens. This is a reaction I do not have to lie through. "replaced." I finish, gazing down at my lap. "Then I realized." My gut clenches slightly. I do not understand why admitting this hurts so much, but it does.

Imra glances at Brainiac. Looks to me. Back to Brainiac. She is still confused by something, though I am not sure exactly what. But I should continue speaking, perhaps I will be able to discern based on her reactions exactly what is baffling her. It is time for my predictions regarding Brainiac's own cover story to make an appearance. I only hope I was able to predict the correct cover story that my ancestor put forward as his reason for possessing a cyborg body.

I turn to Brainiac. "You… could not control your emotions. They overwhelmed you. You needed to get rid of them. So you ran. Back to Colu. Though you'd sworn to never return."

Brainiac straightens up slightly. He now realizes that I have completely discerned what his story must be, how he convinced the Legionnaires that he was Brainiac 5. "I felt I had no other choice. I was emotional and irrational," Brainiac says, voice pitch-perfect and identical to my own in every sense. The intonation. The vocabulary. For a moment everything is terrifying again.

I have to reign in my emotions. This has to be true. Every word. Every feeling. "You told them to fix you. Give you back a robotic body."

"They said it could not be done," Brainiac says.

"They made you half-robot. Half human. It was good enough for you."

Brainiac nods slowly.

"But Colu did not want to let you go."

"Of course not. But they had no choice. Even suppressed, my emotions were too corrupting to their systems. I was half-computer. They couldn't have me speaking emotions into their hive mind."

"They let you leave. You didn't wonder why it was so easy?" I ask.

"My emotions would have corrupted their systems," Brainiac says, allowing just the right amount of confusion into his tone.

"They let you go because they had already downloaded your memories. And they'd taken your DNA." I stared at him. "You really thought they would just let a Dox walk away?"

"They let my mother leave," Brainiac says, still sounding slightly baffled.

"SHE WAS A PSYCHOPATH," I find myself shouting. "AND THEY HAD FOUND ANOTHER DOX TO TAKE HER PLACE."

I did not realize that my mother was a sore subject. I suppose I shall consider this later, when the opportunity presents itself. Not now.

I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. "Of course they would let her go. But you… you were such a powerful mind. And the opportunity to hold onto you in a form that could not corrode their hive mind… did you think they would be able to resist that temptation?"

Imra gasped suddenly, hands flying to her mouth. She understands, I think.

I had been treating everything I said as an experiment, some sort of analysis of a possible reality. It was the only way to have it ring true in my head. I did not actually believe it about myself, but I believed it was possible, and so I focused on my belief, relying on that to make her believe me. And it appears she does believe this.

"They cloned you, Brainy," she says, laying a hand on his shoulder.

The sight sickens me. I don't want to watch her touch him.

She lets go suddenly, sensing my displeasure. Turning to me, she asks, "What's wrong?"

"They downloaded his memories. They cloned him. They accelerated the growth process. Then they re-planted the memories in my mind, hoping I would believe myself to be Querl Dox."

Imra nods, encouraging me to go on with her eyes.

"It worked too well. I… I was desperate to come back to the legion. To redeem myself. But I did not know how. I crashed the hive mind skynet three weeks after I awoke as Querl Dox. I escaped. I visited a rim world, building confidence and seeking myself."

Imra continues to nod as I speak. I hope she can sense the truth to my tale.

"I finally thought I was ready to rejoin the Legion, but I was afraid… afraid you would all hate me," I confess, my gaze turning once more to my hands, twisting and churning in my lap.

Imra and Rokk make sympathetic noises. Garth settles for asking me if I am crazy. "You're awesome!" he assures me.

"So I decided to attend Legion auditions. That's when I saw…" I point at Brainiac, "him."

Imra and Rokk exchange glances. I believe they understand now.

"That's why you broke in?" Imra asked. "because you were afraid he was an impostor?"

"When I saw he had my DNA… I…panicked," I admit. "I was not thinking clearly."

"Yeah, we noticed that when you tried to commit suicide," Garth mutters irritably.

"It was an accident," I say rather harshly. I am not feeling charitable enough to allow Garth his attitude. "I was operating on instinct and wanted to dull my senses to prevent a panic attack. I accidentally dosed myself as a cybernetic coluan rather than as a fully biological coluan. My system couldn't handle the sedative."

Sprocking grife, Brainiac is staring at me as if I am some sort of pathetic waste of his time and attention. I do not appreciate the attention you biomechanical monster. Stop looking at me like that. Emotions do not make me weak and it was a lapse of judgment not a loss of intellect that caused this problem stop talking at me with that cold stare do I look interested no I do not stop staring right now.

Imra turns and glances at Brainiac. "Brainy, you're making him uncomfortable."

"Understandable," Brainiac says, shifting slightly, eyes flicking between myself and Imra. "We are both Querl Dox. I myself admit to being rather…shaken… by this development." His eyes seem to soften, his face turns to her. He looks…frightened, distraught. The emotions are subtle, but there. Is this how I used to look? A cold mechanical collection of parts struggling to put human emotions onto a face designed for emptiness?

Garth and Rokk seem at a loss.

"Well, we're sprocked," Garth finally says, seeming to sum up all of our thoughts in that phrase.

Imra glances at him in warning. "Language," she chides.

Garth rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Look, ah…" he glaces at me. His face hardens. Softens. Twists. He is struggling to find a word.

I am not the true Brainy. He does not see me as "the real one". I am a copy, an imitation.

To the Legion, _I_ am the impostor.

"Querl," Rokk supplies, moving closer to the biobed, "do you… have anywhere to stay?"

I do not know how to answer that. I do. Technically. But I… I want to come home. How can I say this? How can I put that into words when I am so frightened of rejection? What if they say no? They already have one Brainy, why do they need another?

Imra steps forward. Lays a hand on my shoulder. She understands some of what is going on in my head. I do not think she is prying. She knows I could push her out. I have always had incredible understanding of my mind. I have always been able to hide things from her. Brainiac was able to hide from her. We are both… better. Better than others. Better than Titanians. We are always better. So why does it hurt to realize this? Is it because I fear I have more in common with my psychopath mother, my psychopath ancestor, than with truly caring, loving, and compassionate people? Likely.

Rokk has taken Imra's touch of support as an answer in the negative to his question. His face has grown thoughtful. He turns to Brainiac. "This has got to be weird for you," he comments.

"Well. I did ask for my emotions to be suppressed, but yes, I admit to feeling a distinct sense of unease and general displeasure at this turn of events." Brainiac glances at me, a look of concern touching his features. "Not that I blame you." He frowns. "Myself. My clone."

For not the first time I am reminded that technically clones do not have rights under the scientific conventions of the United Planets. What have I done? He could attempt to kill me and I would not even be allowed to press charges. For the first time in my life I truly understand what it feels like to be considered less than human despite my obviously biological structure. It was one thing to be hated for being a Coluan. But…to be not despised, but rather to be seen as worthless, having less value than the "original", being a "copy", something fake, phony… it hurts.

Perhaps when this is all over I will lobby for clone rights. I had no idea it could hurt this much to be seen as less than the "original" simply because I came second. I have the same memories, mannerisms, everything. But because they were "reunited" with him first, I am seen as the extra. The unneeded. Superfluous. Unwanted.

"Rokk, he wants to stay here," Imra says, glancing at him with a question in her eyes. "Should we vote… again?"

Garth splutters as though something has momentarily obstructed his windpipe. "You mean you want the entire Legion to vote on whether or not to re-induct a _second_ Brainy?"

"Imra, I don't think we can do that," Rokk says. "He's not…" he glances at me. "He doesn't have any powers."

_HE DID NOT. HE WOULD NOT BE SO STUPID. _Almost involuntarily I find myself sitting straight up, fists clenched. _BUT HE IS THAT STUPID. SPROCK YOU, ROKK. SPROCK YOU. _Fortunately, I do not say this aloud, but I quickly realize that this means I am spluttering unintelligible gibberish. It is not that I have no words, it is simply that I am too angry to verbalize them properly. I should settle for something simpler. A single word. "**_Pardon_****?**" I finally manage. A seething fury is bubbling through my veins and it takes all my power to not leap from my biobed and strangle the idiotic Braalian.

Rokk is looking at me with a thoroughly nauseating combination of pity and patronization. Imra is gazing at Rokk as though he has gone insane. Garth is glancing back and forth between myself and the Braalian as though he is unsure as to whether he should add something to the conversation or sit back and enjoy the impending blowout. Brainiac is, of course, observing quietly.

"Rokk," Imra says softly. "He's a _Dox_. Of course he still has powers."

I settle for gesturing animatedly at Imra, glaring at Rokk. "Quod erat demonstrandum."

Rokk blinks. "Come again?"

"I think he means 'yeah, what she said,'" Garth supplies helpfully. "In some coluan dialect."

"Latin, actually," Brainiac says. "Literally translated, it means 'that which was to be demonstrated,' and is usually cited as Q-E-D at the end of a mathematical proof or philosophical argument in order to indicate the completion of the proof."

"So basically he said 'yeah what she said', only fancier," Garth says, shooting a disgruntled look at Brainaic.

"More accurately, he was implying that Imra's statement was all the proof required," Brainiac responds coolly.

"Proof of what?" Rokk asks, rubbing the side of his face, appearing frustrated.

"My status as a clone has absolutely no bearing on my twelfth level intellect, Rokk," I snarl – yes, snarl. I rarely find myself angry, but the insinuation that I am less than myself coupled with the accusation that I am useless and also unintelligent is almost physically painful and I find myself nearly unhinged at the weight of these revelations. "If you would kindly take a moment to remove your head from your rectum perhaps you would be able to recognize this fact," I continue. I am not sure why I am saying this, it seems like an enormously foolish thing to do, but I am angry and hurt and afraid and I don't know what to do, so I suppose this is what they call "lashing out". I am "lashing out" at Rokk.

"Did you just-?" Rokk demands angrily, taking a step forward as if to threaten me.

Garth intercepts him, slipping a large arm around one of Rokk's. "Whoa there buddy, I know we've had a rough day and all, but let's not get too worked up," he suggests.

Imra has her hand on his other arm, chiding him with a single disapproving "Rokk."

Rokk is sufficiently agitated that I do not believe either of them have completely calmed him. "Look…" he begins angrily, but cuts himself off, struggling to find a name for me. "…you," he finally decides, falling back on the tried-and-true second-person singular pronoun, "I don't know who you think you are, but this is sprocking serious business and I'm not convinced we can trust you so just sprocking keep your head or you're out of here!"

"Rokk!" Imra says, shocked.

"Sprock you, Rokk," I find myself shouting right back. "Sprock you, you sprocking _nass_." I angrily tug some of the medical observation equipment off of myself, wanting nothing more than to get out of the sprocking sickbay and forget any of this ever happened. "I have been sprocking _scared_ and _hurt_ and _confused_," my vision is blurring. Sprock. I swipe at my face with one hand, throwing the blankets aside with my other. "Grife! I didn't know who the sprock this nass-hole was," I gesture at Brainiac, "or what the sprock I was even _doing_ here." I stand up, trying to ignore the pounding in my head and how dizzy rising made me. "Well fine. You can go back to doing whatever the sprock you were planning on doing today. I'll just go," I clench my fists and walk towards the door, desperately fighting back tears.

"Brainy, don't go!"

I freeze. In this moment I feel I could forgive Garth all the wrongs he has ever committed in his entire life, including the time he decided to booby-trap my laboratory with spray cheese and silly string. I feel a massive amount of tension slipping away as a strong hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "Hey," he says softly, gently, "don't cry."

I am crying, I realize. I don't know when it happened, but tears are running down my face and I must look a _mess_ and suddenly Imra has her arms around me and she is cooing soft gentle words and patting my hair and _I missed them so much_, _why is this so hard_?

A small part of me hears Rokk apologizing and it's all right, I don't care, he was just being himself, Rokk is not easily fooled because of his suspicious nature and it would have been stranger to me had he not questioned my story. I feel like I can perhaps finally relax, my friends are still my friends and maybe I can find a way to make this work and

Ugh

My head sways suddenly as though the entire room is trying to make me dizzy and I must sit down but why is the bed moving?

I do not

...

Feel well

...

...

~end~

* * *

A/N: Well. Hope that was worth the wait. Probably the longest chapter I have written to date. Also the hardest chapter. Gosh it hut my soul.

Also, the swearing. I cannot believe all the futuristic swearing. And Brainy was just... ughhhhh I really loved this chapter but I'm almost afraid it's out of character. But. I think with all the stress brainy has gone through it's okay.

So.

Thoughts? Opinions? Irritations? The present tense bothering anyone? There was a rough sentence or two that I tried reworking like a million times and hated every time so I just gave up.

YAY LONG CHAPTER. Don't hold your breath, this was the last bit of pre-written material so I don't know when the next chapter will be coming. Hopefully soon. Though of course reviews always help. :)

Stay tuned~!


	23. Entry 23

Doc code 1278803-4576b

-_keypad initiated-_

**Entry 23-**

I BELIEVE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I FIND CAPSLOCK NECESSARY TO EXPRESS THE FULL FORCE OF THE WORDS I WRITE AT THIS MOMENT. WERE I IN A BETTER FRAME OF MIND AT THE MOMENT, I MIGHT FEEL SOME REGRET AT THE FORCE WITH WHICH I AM TYPING UPON THIS OMNICOM'S KEYPAD.

AS IT STANDS, I AM FURIOUS.

ENRAGED.

NO. NOT ENRAGED. OUTRAGED.

I AM …

…hurting. To be more honest with myself, I am in pain. Not physically, there are simple remedies for physical pain. This pain is deep inside me, a tightening in my chest, an ill feeling in my stomach, a pounding in my head, a tremble in my hands, a choke in my throat.

They believed me.

This isn't fair, I know. I lied. I wanted them to believe me when I lied. I needed them to believe me. But yet, I am so hurt and angry that they _did_ believe me. Even Garth didn't think to ask "well wait, how do you know you aren't the real Brainy?"

It is enough to drive me mad. I am sitting here in the infirmary, still hooked up to these insufferable machines and all I want is to be accepted, wanted, remembered. But no! I am _still_, even now, after all I have gone through, an _outcast_. I suppose it would be best for me to rectify myself with the concept that I am now and forever will be COMPLETELY REJECTED AND AVOIDED BY EVERYONE FOR ALL TIME.

IF I AM NOT ALIENATING PEOPLE WITH MY INTELLECT I AM PASSING MYSELF OFF AS A CLONE OF MYSELF. WHO EVEN DOES THAT?

WHO CLAIMS TO BE A CLONE OF THEMSELVES?

In some ways, I feel I cannot think clearly, though a more accurate way to describe my current state of being would be described as "I cannot feel clearly." All of my emotions are muddled up inside of me and I am unsure where one starts and another ends. Unlike thought tracks, emotions are tricky, they cannot be managed, simplified, quantified, or even suppressed. At least, not with the same ease I find in manipulating my mind. My "heart" (metaphorically speaking, of course) is much more difficult to understand or control than my mind.

After Imra, Rokk, and the impostor departed, Garth remained with me for some time. I was mostly unaware of this at the time, mostly because I had passed out due to various medical reasons. Garth was still waiting when I awoke.

"Hey," he said softly. "You wanna talk?"

I found this somewhat odd. Normally Saturn Girl was the counselor. He must have seen the confusion on my face, because he elaborated slightly. "Not that I think I'm worth any salt as a counselor, I just thought…" he trailed off, gazing at me with his sharp blue eyes. "I just thought maybe you could use a friend right now."

To my utter shame and consternation, I burst into tears yet again. Being Garth, one would have expected him to be awkward, or maybe tell me to "grow up" or "suck it up", but rather than doing either of these things, Garth shifted for a moment, before surging forward and throwing an arm around my shoulders. I gripped his uniform like it was the only thing securing me to the world. My body shook with heaving sobs and I am fairly convinced I got tears and possibly mucous all over the front of Garth's uniform. I credit him for not forcibly removing me but rather allowing me to grieve, finally, for all I had lost:

My family

My friends

My identity

My life

Garth said nothing, simply held me, I do not know how long. Finally, when my tears ceased, he leaned me back into the biobed and shook his head slightly. "Sprock, Brainy," he said, "I don't know what we're going to do with you."

I blinked, fear clenching my chest. "Wh-what?" I choked out of a rapidly constricting throat.

Garth did a double-take, absorbing my terrified expression. "Huh? Oh, no, no, Brainy, not like _that_." He reassured me quickly, appearing slightly disturbed. Reaching back and scruffing his hair, he chuckled awkwardly. "I mean seriously, you're the only legionnaire I know who can somehow go from cyborg to human to human _AND_ cyborg. You're frankly ridiculous." He reached over and scruffed up my hair. "You crazy overachiever you." I tried to smooth my hair back down and attempted to glare at Garth to inform him of my displeasure, however, my heart was not in it. Garth laughed in response to my glare. "Seriously Brainy, this'll really freak people out. I don't know how the lab crew will deal."

I found myself frowning slightly. "Lab _crew_?" I repeated.

"Yeah, you know, your other you, Salu, and Lyle."

Rapid blinking seemed an appropriate response until I had come up with something suitable to say. "Who is Lyle?" I finally asked.

Garth frowned. "You don't… oh, right, you said you were off on a rim world, you wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know _what,_ Garth?"

"Well you know that right after you left we held auditions, right?"

"…you did?"

"Oh. Okay. You didn't know. Gee, that's awkward," Garth said, scrubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. "Aaanyway," he said, stretching out the 'a', "Um. Lyle Norg joined the team. He's a chemist-inventor-dude. He invented a serum to turn himself invisible. That's cool, right?"

I nodded slowly, not technically agreeing but in order to keep Garth pacified. "So he and Salu and…I… have been working together since I left?"

"Well, he and Salu. We needed someone to replace your brain. Lyle and Salu did some good work together." Garth continued to rub the back of his neck. "Well, actually, once you came back, the lab started running a lot smoother and solutions came faster, but… but it also blew up a lot more."

"All part of the inventing process," I said dismissively. I always say this when someone mentions lab explosions to me. It's less of a habit and almost something of a pre-programmed response at this point.

Garth nodded. "Yeah. Whatever you say."

"So this Lyle Norg," I said, "he has a Legion name?"

"Oh yeah. Invisible Kid. Not especially creative, but y'know, it's pretty self-explanatory. We call him IK a lot. Except you. You always call him 'norg'."

I would. It's frustrating how pinpoint accurate Brainiac can be in assessing my responses and mimicking them precisely. Garth glanced over at the digital time readout above my biobed before glancing at me. "Hey, um, hang in there buddy, okay? I gotta go, but… yeah. See ya."

With that, he exited. Leaving me to stew in my muddled emotions until I felt it necessary to pick up this Omnicom and get writing. I know it doesn't make sense. I don't particularly understand it myself. But there was something about this conversation that bothered me, and it is not until I revisit it now, in writing, that I realize what so angered me.

"once you came back" "you always call him 'norg'."

Garth was being exceedingly kind, and accepting, and in some ways, even referring to me as the Brainy who returned first. But it's not true. I didn't return first. I'm not him. I don't want to be him. And while I am very grateful to Garth for his kindness and for getting me "up to speed", somehow, this idea that brainiac and I are one and the same infuriates me.

Perhaps it had something to do with an earlier statement he'd made: "we needed someone to replace your brain"

It frightens me that Garth sees Brainiac and I as the same person… not because of DNA, or because of a story, but because we have the "same mind." Why is it that everyone seems to think my ancestor and I are one and the same? That we are "cut from the same cloth" or perhaps the exact same cut entirely?

It frightens me to think about these things. Perhaps that is why reacted so strongly earlier in this piece. I am frightened of so much more than the possibility of not being accepted back into the legion. I am afraid of becoming _him_. I don't know what he wants or what he plans to do. All I know is that I do not want to be like him. But the longer we remain in each other's presence it seems the more frequently we will be assessed as two halves of one whole, or the same person.

I do not want to be Brainiac.

I want to be myself.

Not him.

Me.

* * *

A/N: Aww and just when you were getting used to the long chapters too... Sorry but it's just really hard to drag on a single scene of a character talking to himself, so for now you'll have to put up with a shorter chapter. hope to get some longer ones going soon, but I figured I'd get this one up so you guys could continue to feel like maybe I have this under control (haha I don't). Anywho, not sure when the next chappie will be up, but hopefully soon. Thanks for reading!


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